American Noise
by amep
Summary: Liz Dolan has put her life on hold for many reasons. Good ones, too (or so she keeps telling herself). Steve Rogers is trying to stumble forward with his in a world that seems almost alien.
1. Chapter 1: Liz I

*** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **I'm writing this story after being inspired by a few scenes that came to mind one day after seeing Avengers: Age of Ultron. I think our Steve Rogers deserves another shot at love, and that's what I'm hoping to do with this story.**

 **The story begins about a year after the first Avengers film, which according to the Marvel Cinematic Universe timeline is approximately a year before the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. The ultimate goal is to catch up to the most recent MCU events, but we'll see how it goes!**

 **Reviews are always extremely encouraging, so please be sure to leave one if you enjoy a chapter!**

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Chapter 1: Liz I

Liz Dolan sat on a stool behind the counter of her family-owned antique shop. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a practiced bun and her green eyes were glued to the sketchpad she was penciling in front of her. Across the glass counter top from her (on the customer side) she had set up similar stools for the Schaefer twins, Billy and Emma. Both had reddish-brown hair and brown eyes with freckles scattered across their faces and were pretending to make an effort on their homework. At the moment, the storefront of Dolan & Sons Antiques was empty except for the three of them tucked in the front corner of the shop in sight of the front door.

Outside, the weather was bright and sunny. It was one of the nicer days that Washington, D.C. had seen in quite some time after a rather brutal winter. The faint sound of traffic could be heard through the gold lettered windows facing the street. Liz thought she heard the low rumble of what she guessed was a motorcycle.

"Miss Lizzie, what are you drawing? Is that for one of your picture books?" asked Emma, peering over her math to the sketchpad in which Liz was drawing.

Her twin brother chimed in, "They're called comic books, stupid! And that's obviously Captain America."

"Don't call me stupid, stupid. It's hard to see it upside down!" Emma retorted.

Billy ignored his sister, "Do you have pictures of the other Avengers, Miss Lizzie? I like Iron Man the best."

" _Iron Man_?" exclaimed Emma with mock disgust, "Everyone knows Black Widow is the coolest."

"You just think that because you're both _girls_!"

Liz was struggling not to laugh. Ever since the Battle of New York about a year ago, superheroes had exploded back into popular culture, and the Avengers were by far the most famous, probably because they were real-life heroes. Every kid wanted to be at least one of them, and these particular two would use any excuse to delay doing their homework. Liz smiled.

"Maybe I do, and maybe I don't!" Liz stated mischievously, "The two of you be nice and get back to your fractions. If you finish early I _might_ let you see my other drawings. And wouldn't it be a nice surprise for your mom if you finished before she got home?"

The twins lived in one of the apartments above the store with their mother, Catherine. Liz had volunteered to keep an eye on her ten-year-old neighbors for a few hours after their school day had ended until their mother could get home from work.

"But we hate fractions…" the twins grumbled in unison, but the idea of seeing the drawings later placated them.

A chime sounded as the front door of the shop opened. Liz looked up from her sketch to see that a tall, broad shouldered man had entered wearing a navy blue baseball cap and matching jacket. He looked a bit lost.

Liz put on her standard helpful-shopkeeper smile, "Hello! Is there anything I can help you with, or are you just looking?"

Navy Ball Cap looked as if he had not been expecting to be addressed quite so suddenly as he looked around and found Liz behind the counter. He smiled politely and answered a bit nervously as he stepped towards her, "Good afternoon, Ma'am," he looked down at a small piece of paper in his hands, "I'm not sure I'm in the right place… I'm looking for a Mr. John Dolan. I'm here about the apartment. I was told this was the address?"

"Sure, you're in the right place. He's in the back. I'll grab him for you." Liz smiled and turned, walking down the length of the counter to a door in the adjacent corner towards the rear of the shop. She opened it and poked her head through it.

"Hey, Pops?" She started, "The new tenant is here!"

"Just a moment Elizabeth! Be right with them!" Was returned from what seemed like a distant corner of the back area.

Liz walked back over towards her stool across from the twins. Navy Cap was eyeing the sketchpad that had been left open on the counter.

"He'll be right out," she informed brightly, "I'm Liz, by the way; John's granddaughter. It sounds like we're going to be neighbors." Liz extended her hand in greeting.

Navy Cap looked slightly more at ease now that he was sure that he was where he was supposed to be. He took Liz's hand for a shake, "Nice to meet you, Ma'am. I'm Steve."

There was a kindness in his blue eyes, and a hint of what Liz might have guessed to be sadness. Steve's hand felt very warm, though being as how Liz was almost always in need of a hoodie even in mid-summer (and today was no exception), this hardly surprised her. What did surprise her was how gentle his handshake was for someone his size. He was at least a foot taller than Liz's five-foot-two, not to mention apparently muscular beneath his navy lightweight jacket. For some reason she blushed at his repeated use of the contraction "ma'am". It added a certain amount of charm to his obvious attractiveness.

Liz made to brush a phantom strand of auburn hair behind her ear as their hands separated, even though any loose strands that would normally escape the bun they were normally drawn into were already neatly tucked beneath a hair clip of a similar shade. Liz averted her gaze shyly back to the twins, who were both watching the exchange.

"You guys done yet?" She teased, grateful for the opportunity to deflect attention.

"We need serious help…" Billy proclaimed, theatrically exasperated.

"You mean in general? Or with fractions?" Liz joked cheekily. The twins laughed and Steve almost chuckled.

The door to the back room opened and shut. Out shuffled a grey-haired man in what looked to be his eighties. He was carrying a cane off the ground as opposed to using it to walk (as he probably should have been doing) and a set of keys in the same hand. He used the other to guide himself along the counter.

"You must be the army lad Miss Hill is sending our way. Always a pleasure to provide housing for those who serve our country!" He greeted Steve happily, moving relatively quickly for a man his age down the front side of the counter.

"That's me, sir." Steve said warmly.

"John Dolan, owner of this establishment, but everyone calls me 'Pops' these days so you might as well, too," Pops reached the point where Steve stood. Steve went to shake his hand, but the old man continued ambling quickly past him towards the front door.

"No time for that, my boy! Can't waste any momentum before we get upstairs!" He shook his cane in the air defiantly and the keys jingled.

The twins giggled and Steve turned to see that Liz was also stifling a laugh. He looked at her mildly concerned.

"Go on, Pops'll be fine," Liz started, "He'll show you up to your apartment, if you can keep up with him."

Steve nodded and smiled, "Thank you Ma'am," he said, tipping his baseball cap and following Pops towards the front door. Steve beat Pops to it and opened the door for him.

"Thank you, lad! You're one lucky fellow, you know. You'll be on the top floor across from my beautiful Elizabeth there! And next door to a lovely nurse who moved in not too long ago herself! Now what was her name?" Pops' voice grew fainter as the door closed behind him and Steve and they made their way to the separate apartment entrance of the building.

Liz was blushing to herself as she overheard Pops' last comments. Her grandfather never missed an opportunity to inform a complete stranger of how wonderful he thought she was, especially strangers of the male variety. It was Pops' opinion that she needed to find herself "a nice fella'," and stop spending so much time unnecessarily babysitting him.

"Miss Lizzie?" Emma asked shyly.

"Yes, Emma?"

Emma paused for a moment before continuing with her question. "Pops said that man, Steve, was in the army…" she trailed off, glancing at Billy as if for moral support. Her twin continued after another pause, "Do you think he knows our dad?"

Liz sat back down on her stool so that she was closer to their eye level. She took the moment to think about a response. Mark Schaefer, the twins' father, had been stationed in Afghanistan and later Iraq for most of his children's lives. He wrote often and called when he could, but it was difficult on the family who had been left behind. They had only seen their father in person a few times while he had been deployed.

Liz understood their situation better than most. Her own father, John Dolan, Jr., had been an Air Force pilot during the Gulf War; only he had never made it home. Liz was only four years old when he had been shot down during a combat mission towards the end of Operation Desert Storm. Liz had been living with her grandparents at the time since her mother, Pamela, had passed away during the birth of her first and only child.

"I don't know, guys..." Liz began in response to the twins' question, "The army is pretty big. You can always ask your dad next time he calls." She smiled warmly, trying to pass on a bit of hope to their young faces. "Now, what seems to be the trouble with this math of yours?"

"It just sucks," Billy mumbled putting his hand on his fist.

"Oh, come on. Fractions are easy!" Liz stated enthusiastically.

"Easy for _you_ to say!" Billy countered, "You went to college for math. I'm only in the fourth grade!"

"She didn't go to college for math, stupid! She went for _engineering_ ," Emma corrected coolly.

"You don't even know what _engineering_ means!"

"Do too! It's, like… learning how to build stuff."

"Learning how to build stuff with _math_."

As entertaining as she found the twins' heated discussions, Liz knew them too well not to realize they were only trying to prolong any breaks in their work as long as possible.

"Alright, enough of that…" Liz interjected, "You are both right. Now let me see these. Your mom will be home soon, so let's buckle down and get these done."

The twins quieted down as Liz began to walk them through their remaining homework problems.


	2. Chapter 2: Liz II

*** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **Thank you all for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I was not expecting to have as much as a response so early!**

 **This next chapter took me quite a few re-writes to get right. I hope you like it! As always, reviews are very much appreciated and constructive criticism is welcomed.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Liz II

A while later, after Catherine had picked up the twins, Liz closed up the shop and walked next door to the apartment entrance of the building her grandfather owned. She collected her mail and Pops' from their separate mailboxes and made her way to Pops' apartment, storing her own mail in her shouldered messenger bag. Pops had the only apartment on the ground floor. The other two levels each had three separate living spaces, however the two apartments that formerly made up the rest of the first level had been converted to suit the layout of the connecting store long before Liz had been born.

"Hey, Pops," Liz greeted as she entered the apartment where she had grown up. She now lived on the top floor, having moved up there after graduating from college. She heard the sound of some old movie playing in the living room.

"There's my girl!" Pops shuffled out of the living room to meet Liz. She was now in the kitchen area sorting through the mail. Liz had to smile at her grandfather's infectious upbeat personality.

"You've got some bills here, Pops. I'm just going to leave them here on the counter. Did you eat yet? Do you want me to make you something?" Even though Liz now lived upstairs, she made a point to make sure her grandfather had everything he needed. After all, they were all the family each other had left. She felt that she owed it to him and her late grandmother, Rose, whom Liz had called Gran. Especially since they had raised her.

"No need, Sunshine, I had the leftovers from last night about an hour ago, around six o'clock. You can stop fussing over me and get out of here." Pops said, making a shooing motion towards her with his hands.

"Are you trying to get rid of me? Got a hot date I don't know about?" Liz joked, always amused and inspired by Pops' independent nature.

"Yes I am, and no I don't!" Pops stated mildly indignant, "You spend far too much time worrying over me and tending the store than the law should allow. You're twenty-six years old and should be out with your friends on a Friday evening, trying to find a nice fella'. Not taking care of an old man!"

"Take it easy, Pops," Liz forced a half smile. This had become an almost weekly discussion over the past couple months, and it was beginning to get old, "You know I'm not much of a going out on the town type anymore. And I just want to make sure that you're happy and comfortable."

"I know, Lizzie, but I'm fine. Truly I am! So go on, and find yourself something else to keep you occupied. I was going to meet with my veterans' group across town, in any event," Pops insisted.

"Fine, fine. I'll get out of your hair, Pops," Liz held up her hands in surrender, "You have a good night. Stay out of trouble, and I'll see you in the morning. Love ya," she kissed her grandfather on the cheek warmly.

"Good night, Sunshine," Pops walked her to the door, "Do me a favor on your way up and check in on Mister… Mister What's-his-name… I can't recall it just now," he added, as if it were an afterthought, "Anyway, just make sure he has everything he needs and that he's not missing any furnishings that Miss Hill had requested."

"You mean Steve?" Liz suspected Pops had been conspiring in her absence, "Sure thing, Pops." Liz bit her lip in an effort to keep from smiling in spite of herself. The old man probably thought he was being subtly clever, thinking of what he thought was an inconspicuous way to get her to talk to her new neighbor and it was mildly adorable. Liz shook her head as she turned and started up the stairs.

On her way passed the second floor, Liz overheard the Schaefer twins in another one of their heated debates and let out a quiet laugh. Liz met her other top floor neighbor on the landing halfway between the second and third floors. The blonde girl was carrying a basket of laundry on her way down to the basement, still dressed in her light pink hospital scrubs. Liz guessed that she had just gotten home from her shift not too long ago.

"How's it going, Kate?" Liz greeted.

"Hey, Liz. Good! How are you?" Kate paused on the landing. She seemed as though she wanted to chat. They had become friendly during the time that Kate had lived in the building, even though for the most part Kate kept to herself and her work.

"I'm good, just closed up shop. Hey, did you meet our new neighbor?"

"You mean Steve?" Kate flashed a devious smile, "I caught him bringing in some of his boxes. Kind of hard to miss someone that handsome."

"Yeah, I guess he's alright…" Liz blushed a little bit, motioning to wrap a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear. These kinds of conversations always made her feel a bit awkward. She really was not one to stand around gossiping over boys, no matter how attractive they might be.

"Oh, come on, Liz. Don't be so shy!" Kate encouraged, "I think you should ask him out," she stage-whispered playfully as she resumed her descent down the stairs.

Liz shook her head, "Because that ended up going so super-awesomely the last time I tried dating a guy who lived in the building… I'll pass."

Kate gave Liz an apologetic smile and shrugged, "It's been two months since Jason moved out. I know I was only around for the very end of that but—" Kate cut herself off as she realized Liz's expression was rapidly deteriorating, "Just putting it out there…"

"G'night, Kate," Liz sighed as she climbed the final staircase.

Instead of turning left when she came to the landing to go to her apartment, Liz made a right and headed for the one that Pops had assigned to Steve. She listened for a brief moment at the door and heard the shuffling of boxes. Liz put on her best I'm-a-professional-land-lady face and knocked on the door three times. Any noise inside the apartment suddenly ceased. There was a short pause and then the sound of a few long strides coming toward the door. Then it opened.

"Miss Dolan?" Steve looked surprised. He obviously was not expecting any visitors. His dirty blonde hair was slightly tousled, and starting to fall in front of his forehead. Liz tried not to notice that the white t-shirt he was wearing looked about a half size too small.

"Please, you can call me Elizabeth… Or Liz, or Lizzie," she smiled, but did not know why she had offered her full first name as an option, especially as the primary one. Normally that was not something Liz would prefer to have people call her. Most used either of the latter two variations. She guessed it was because her full name sounded more mature or professional.

"Oh, okay… Elizabeth. Is there something you needed?" Steve's face went from surprised to slightly worried in a heartbeat, "I'm sorry if I was making too much noise. I was just about done unpacking…" He rushed a preemptive apology as he motioned toward the few boxes scattered behind him in the living room.

"Oh, no! No, you're fine," Liz tried to abate any tension quickly, "Pops and I just wanted to see if you're settling in okay and have everything you needed?" Liz glanced behind Steve and noticed that there were far fewer boxes than one would have expected to see, considering he had just moved in this afternoon.

"Oh!" Relief and a smile crept over Steve's face, his blue eyes sparkling, "Yes, it's a great place. I apologize for any trouble you had to go through because of me…"

"Not at all! Pops and I are glad to do it. Helping our troops and their families get their feet on the ground is especially important to us. You're not the first soldier we've had staying with us." Liz smiled again, trying to convey a welcoming sentiment.

"Thanks, Mis— I mean, Elizabeth." Steve's expression changed to one that was appreciative. There was an awkward pause in the conversation.

Kate's comment from earlier suddenly reverberated through Liz's mind. _You should ask him out…_ "Well, I don't want to keep you from getting settled," Liz shifted her weight and brushed a non-existent loose strand behind her ear, then made a half-turn away from Steve back towards her own apartment, "But if you do need anything you can find me across the hall," Liz pointed over her shoulder with her thumb and took a slow step in the same direction, "I'm usually there or at the shop downstairs, and you'll find a list of numbers by the phone where you can reach me or Pops if we're not around." She smiled shyly as she felt her cheeks begin to blush.

"I'll keep that in mind," Steve averted his eyes to a corner of the floor for a moment before he looked back at Liz, "And thank you, again. I… I really do appreciate it." Was that a hint of pink growing on his face as well?

"Well," Liz paused and took another slow step toward her own door however she somehow managed to stumble over herself, half distracted while trying to determine if Steve was blushing. She recovered quickly, "Have a good night, Steve."

"Good night, Elizabeth." Steve still had a warm smile as Liz turned and finished crossing the hall. She silently thanked the powers that be that Steve was gentleman enough not to comment on her clumsiness as she sorted through her keys. Liz could sense him still standing on the threshold of his own apartment watching her as she opened her door.

She entered, switched on a light, and looked back to offer one more small smile, which Steve again returned, before she closed the door behind her. Once inside, Liz leaned her back against the door and let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes. She heard the click of Steve's door shutting across the corridor.

"You are such a dork," Liz berated herself quietly. She opened her eyes and walked further into her living room. It was not like her to fluster over a guy quite so easily. Hell, she did not even know him well enough to decide whether or not she actually liked him. Even if she did, Liz was sure that nothing good could come of it. Her last tryst with Jason had gotten ugly after he had ended things rather unexpectedly, which ultimately resulted in the guy vacating one of the second floor apartments in a hurry.

Liz tried to physically shake the thoughts from her head as she tossed her messenger bag on the couch and unzipped her white hoodie. The dog tags around her neck clinked over her black t-shirt as she pulled off the hoodie and tossed it on the couch as well. _It's not like I'm ready to get into anything with someone new anyway,_ Liz started to rationalize as she dug her iPod out of her messenger bag and went to dock it on the sound system in her entertainment center across from the couch. She still was not over the Jason situation.

 _And I have to be at the shop almost every day, keep an eye on Pops, and keep the building maintained… And I promised Catherine I'd help look after Billy and Emma during the summer,_ Liz queued the shuffle feature and made her way to the kitchen as an alternative rock tune began to play, _I just don't even have the time for a boyfriend right now, let alone the energy to attempt to deal with the emotional drama that comes along with one._

Liz opened the fridge and looked inside for a few moments. She could eat, but she was not starving. She had gotten into the habit of eating in small increments throughout the day when she had taken over most of the day-to-day dealings down in the shop. Liz was usually armed with several granola bars holstered in her bag at any given time. Today, she had exhausted the whole stash working around the store all morning and early afternoon with Pops, cataloging newly acquired curios and rearranging the storefront to be more aesthetically pleasing and organized.

Liz decided to make a meal out of the potato salad she had prepared the night before. It had been her Gran's recipe and one of Liz's favorites. She leaned against the counter as she finished off the small container while humming along to the music that was playing. Liz washed and rinsed the container and the fork she had used and left them to dry on top of a dish towel she had set on top of the counter next to the sink, and then went back to the refrigerator for a can of Coke.

Liz opened the can and took a sip as she returned to the living room and plopped herself down on the couch. She kicked off her sneakers and brought her feet up to sit cross-legged, setting her beverage on top of a coaster on the wooden coffee table in front of her. Liz opened her messenger bag and withdrew her sketchbook, flipping towards the middle to the page that she had been working on earlier. Liz combed through her bag for her trusty mechanical pencil, jostling the other contents during her search and ticking them off in her mind as her fingers grazed them.

 _Keys… wallet… phone… glasses… deodorant…_ Liz brought the bag into her lap as she expanded the pursuit to another pocket, _Headphones… inhaler… notepad…_ _p_ _encil!_ Liz closed the messenger bag and set it aside.

Liz began penciling in the finer details of the rough sketch she had began earlier that day. She had started drawing her own rendition of the famed original Captain America from World War II. There were many who believed that somehow he had miraculously returned to help save the day during the Battle of New York last year, but Liz was skeptical about this theory at best. The man had disappeared as suddenly as he had materialized that day and had not been seen since. It had obviously been someone else attempting to take up the overwhelming mantel.

Super-soldier or not, Liz knew that no amount of wishful thinking could reawaken the dead. She absent-mindedly clutched the dog tags that hung low around her neck and brought up the hand that held them to rest against her chest. She spent the remainder of her evening attempting to bring the Sentinel of Liberty to life on the page.

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 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **I'm sorry we still haven't seen too much of Steve as of this chapter! I promise there will be more of him in the next one, but I felt that it was important that we get to know Liz better before we dive into the main plot (there is one, I promise!).**

 **I did struggle with this chapter a bit, and I think that having a Beta Reader for this story would be very beneficial. If you are interested in being a beta for this story, please be sure your Beta Profile is complete and send me a PM!**

 **Thanks for reading :-)**


	3. Chapter 3: Liz III

*** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **Firstly, I want to apologize for the long wait for this chapter. Secondly, I want to apologize for the length of this chapter (3,799 words before Author's Notes), but I think you're all going to enjoy it!**

 **Lastly, (and most importantly!) I want to thank my wonderful beta reader, OfficialAidenRose over on Wattpad. They've been helping me organize my thoughts and the future plot a bunch, and I can't thank them enough!**

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Chapter 3: Liz III

A few weeks had passed since Steve had moved into the apartment directly across the hall from Liz. Liz had found that her new neighbor was courteous and considerate, albeit rather quiet. Liz's daily routine had gone on without much change, though there were a few minor differences.

Almost every morning as Liz was leaving her apartment to open the store at nine o'clock in the morning, she met Steve just returning from his morning run and breakfast (Liz had suggested a few good places for both down by the parks and monuments). Sundays, Liz noticed, seemed to be Steve's morning off from his fitness regimen. Mondays the store was closed so Liz would sleep in and miss him, being as it was the only day a week that she took off from managing the storefront. She would typically use this day to run personal errands and relax. It was the second Monday after Steve had moved in when he and Liz had their first encounter lasting longer than two minutes.

Liz was contemplating whether or not to go out for a late breakfast (or an early lunch depending on what meal you consider to be taking place at half past eleven in the morning) as she was going through notifications on her smartphone. She was deleting a few junk emails when she heard a timid knock on the door of her apartment. She got up from the small kitchen table that was set against the wall and pocketed her phone as she went to the door, standing on her toes to peek through the eyehole to see who it was. Recognizing the face on the other side, Liz was glad that she had chosen to change out of pajamas this morning as she opened the door, although she had not got as far as trading her rectangular black-framed glasses for the contact lenses she normally wore throughout the day.

"G'morning, Steve," Liz smiled. The two of them had become friendly as a result of their usual morning greeting in the corridor after Steve had moved into the apartment across the hall.

Steve stood in the hall with his hands on his hips. He was wearing a light blue workout shirt and darker blue sweatpants. His bright blue eyes looked down at Liz's green ones behind her frames with a half-smile.

"Good morning," he replied, "I didn't know you wore glasses," Steve stated abruptly, tilting his head slightly to the side.

Liz's smile faded somewhat as her gaze darted to the floor for a moment, "Yeah," she started, brushing an auburn strand of hair behind her ear and tucking it behind the arm of the frame that rested there before looking back at Steve, "Unfortunately without them anything passed my nose becomes a blurred mess… I wear contacts most days. What's up?"

Steve raised a hand behind his head and mussed it through his hair. "I hate to bother you," he began, his own eyes darting away to a corner of the floor for a moment before meeting Liz's again, "But I, um… I'm having a bit of trouble with the washer. Can't figure the thing out."

Liz thought that the defeated look on his face was endearing. He was obviously embarrassed about having to ask for her help. She smiled a bit brighter trying to make Steve feel better about it, "Oh, no problem! The new digital ones we got for the basement laundry room threw me off a bit too when we first started using them."

Steve half-turned and moved towards the open door of his apartment across the corridor, and Liz began to follow. "The thing just keeps beeping every time I push one of the buttons…" Steve tried to explain, trailing off as he led Liz to his apartment. Miss Hill had requested that the unit be outfitted with a private washer and dryer (if it would not be too much trouble) before making the final arrangements for Steve to move into the apartment.

Liz put on her best creepy robot voice, "I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that." She tried not to snicker at her own dorky humor, though Liz's smile was evident.

Steve looked at her, confused, "Who's Dave?"

Liz blushed and looked at the floor, "Oh, no one… I was just quoting an old Sci-Fi movie from the sixties that had this computer named HAL that started disobeying Dave's orders. _2001: A Space Odyssey_?"

"I'm sorry. I haven't seen it…" Steve looked genuinely apologetic that he had not understood the reference.

"It's good. I mean I liked it at least…" Liz shrugged. She was internally scolding herself that she had let her dorky side show so soon. Normally she tried to keep that under wraps until she knew someone a bit better. Liz should have known Steve would not be into that stuff just by looking at him. He was definitely one of those macho, sporty types.

To Liz's surprise, Steve smiled and replied a bit enthusiastically, "Then I'll have to watch it sometime."

As she entered the living room from the communal hallway, Liz noticed that the place had not changed much since she had finished furnishing it with Pops a few weeks ago. There were a handful of books on the shelves around the flat screen television along the same wall as the door, and strangely enough not a single movie case in sight. A white mug was set on the coffee table in front of the couch next to a newspaper. On the opposing wall, an old motorcycle poster had been hung with tacks. To the left, a few old looking, monochrome photographs in older looking picture frames stood next to some manila folders on top of a desk. Behind the desk, sun streamed in through the curtainless window that faced the street.

"I have it on DVD. Let me know if you'd like to borrow it." Liz smiled back at Steve as they passed the kitchen entrance (at a quick glance it appeared untouched) and rounded a corner to a small hall that led to the bedroom (the door was closed) and eventually the bathroom, where a side-by-side front-load washer and dryer pair had been fitted into the linen closet.

"Thank you, I just might take you up on that," Steve sounded very appreciative as they reached the washer and dryer.

Liz glanced at the control panel for the washer. It was set to a normal cycle, but the light denoting this was flashing in unison along with the indicator lights for the rinse and drain phases.

"Well, that's funny," Liz furrowed her eyebrows. These were the same models they had in the basement so Liz considered herself very familiar with them, but she had never seen the washer blink like that before, "Do you remember what you did before it started blinking like that?"

"Yes, um…" Steve began, "I pushed this," Steve pressed his long index finger into the button that read 'ON' and the machine beeped, "Then I tried changing the wash type," he rotated the dial up to the heavy cycle (beep) then back down to the normal cycle (another beep), "And then I pushed this," he pressed the 'HOLD TO START' button for a few seconds. A series of a fast beeps sounded, but the washer did nothing else.

"Well, normally that would be the way to do it," Liz encouraged, "Let me try resetting it." Liz pressed the cancel button. The lights on the panel should have cleared, but another beep sounded and the same flashing light pattern remained. She held in the cancel button, which should have shut the whole thing off; there was another beep and no change.

"Cute," Liz muttered not thinking that the machine was cute in the slightest given its current behavior, "I have the PDF on my phone," she said, pulling her phone out of her back pocket.

"PDF?" Steve questioned, looking at Liz with a puzzled expression.

"Yeah, a digital version of the machine manual." Liz pulled the document up on the small screen and swiped through several pages. She tried not to notice Steve's close proximity as he peered over her shoulder with an almost amazed look on his face. She tried even harder not to notice the clean smell of soap mixed with the fresh scent of recent shower wafting off of him in her direction.

"Says here that it could be a loose hose. Can you help me pull it out from the wall a bit?"

Before Liz even had the chance to pocket her phone, she found herself stepping off to the side as Steve gently pulled out the washer as if it were an empty cardboard box. He stopped when it was about two feet from the back wall of the closet.

"I think that's as far as it goes without detaching something," Steve stated and stood up straight with his hands on his hips looking at his handy work.

Liz noticed that he did not even skip a breath. She looked up at him with a smirk, "Show off."

Steve snapped his eyes to her and blushed, "No, I just—"

"At ease soldier, I'm just joking with you." Liz's smirk was still evident as she turned on the flashlight of her phone and placed it off to the side on top of the dryer to her right. Liz slid on her stomach over the top of the washer, feet coming off the floor behind her as she pulled herself towards the back with her hands. She grabbed the phone and peered over into the hole trying to get a good look at the hoses in the back.

"Do you need help?" There was concern is Steve's voice as Liz heard him shuffle to her right.

"I'm okay, I just can't see anything from this angle. I need to get back there." Liz slid off the washer. Steve was now standing in the corner that had been created adjacent to the dryer when he had pulled out the washing machine.

"Can you hold this for a sec'?" Liz handed him her phone after he nodded. Then unzipped her white hoodie. As she pulled it off, the dog tags that hung around her neck clinked. She quickly tucked them into the front of her emerald green tank top to keep them out of the way. She tossed the hoodie on the dryer behind Steve. She turned and used her arms to help her hop backwards onto the top of the washer so that she was sitting on it, then twisted her legs around and disappeared into the hole between the washer and the back of the closet wall. Liz's tiny stature made fitting into the gap relatively painless. Light was already shining down into the dark space. She looked up to find Steve peering down at her bemused, phone powered flashlight in hand. She reached up and he handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said, "What's with the look?" She questioned as she began investigating the connecting points of the water hoses. She knew that look. It was the same look she used to get from the guys in some of her engineering classes back at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The are-you-sure-you-know-what-you're-doing? look.

"Nothing, you just—" Steve cut himself off, "Can I do anything to help?"

The drain hose did seem a bit wigglier than it should have been. Liz tried to adjust the hose clamp around the connection point by hand, but she could not get enough leverage on the screw.

"Yeah, I think I found the problem. You don't happen to have a Phillips screwdriver, do you?" Liz looked back up at Steve.

He shook his head, "I don't think so."

"No worries, I have one in my toolbox. It's on the floor of my coat closet in my living room, if you don't mind?"

He smiled and nodded, looking happy that he could be of some use, and then disappeared from view. As she crouched, a bit of dust flew up Liz's nose and elicited a sneeze, followed by a cough. Liz cleared her throat. A moment passed before Steve returned.

"Here you go," Steve handed her the screwdriver.

"Thanks," Liz repeated. She decided to loosen the cross-headed screw so that she could reseat the hose and the clamp properly before tightening it again. "Give it a try now? You might need to hold 'CANCEL' first."

Steve disappeared from Liz's narrow viewpoint. She cleared her throat again as she heard Steve try to start the washer. A few seconds later, there was a click and the sound of water flowing through the hose. Liz smiled to herself triumphantly. She cautiously made to stand up. Once upright, she turned off the phone flashlight and handed both the phone and the screwdriver back to Steve.

"We have conquered the machine. Should be good going forward," Liz joked as she cautiously slid forward on her stomach on top of the washer again so as not to upset the hose with her feet. She felt the machine rumble as it started turning over clothing inside.

"I'm impressed," Steve smiled and suddenly Liz felt strong hands around her waist and then herself being lifted and then her feet hitting the ground. She was so flustered she almost did not remember to stand on her own. Steve bent down and slowly but effortlessly backed the spinning washer against the wall of the closet. The moment his hands were gone, Liz found herself missing them. She quickly shook the thought from her head.

"You're just glad that you weren't doing something wrong," Liz ventured teasingly, trying to keep her composure and hoping the blood she felt rushing to her face was not obvious. She coughed lightly, turning her head into her shoulder.

"You're not entirely wrong about that," Steve stood up and mussed the hair on the back of his head, "I'm surprised you were able fit back there. Good thing, too. You're tougher than you look."

"Judge me by my size, do you?" Liz could not resist putting on her best Yoda impression, a rather pathetic one at that, she knew, but it was obviously not her normal voice. She coughed into the nook of her elbow.

Steve shook his head apologetically, though there was a small smile there, "That reference is lost on me."

"Yoda, from Star Wars?" Liz felt that was all the explanation that was necessary.

Steve shook his head again, "No, sorry…"

Liz's eyes widened at this, "You've never seen _Star Wars?!_ Have you been living under a rock?" she almost yelled, incredulously. It was one of her all time favorite film sagas, after all, and anyone who is anyone has seen at least one of them.

"You could say that… Why does everyone react that way?" Steve chuckled at her enthusiasm; his smile reached his eyes for once.

Liz coughed again into her elbow, this time more violently. Her chest suddenly felt tight, like something heavy was steadily pushing against it. Liz tried to take a deep breath, but her lungs would not allow it. She forced a cough in an effort to get some air moving before taking a shallow wheezing breath. Liz put a hand against the tiled bathroom wall to steady herself.

Steve's expression rapidly changed, "Elizabeth?" He bent down to Liz's eye level, alarm taking over his face. He steadied her other shoulder with his strong hand and Liz gasped for another wheezing breath, "Liz? What's happening?"

Liz could not respond. She was focused on trying to breath as the onset of her asthma attack began to escalate. She backed away from Steve and moved down the hall as quickly as she could, Steve right behind her. Liz ran through Steve's living room and back across the hall to her apartment. She quickly found her messenger bag in her living room and frantically up ended it, spilling the contents onto the coffee table. Liz wheezed strenuously as she reached for her inhaler and immediately breathed in the medicine that pushed out of the canister. Her chest started to ease as she took a second and then a third breath with the device. Liz was able to take her next breath without the aid of the inhaler and sat down on her couch taking slow, deliberate breaths. Steve was suddenly sitting next to her, hand outstretched to her shoulder. He was studying her face, worry written all over his.

"What was that you were saying about being tough?" Liz tried to joke, words coming out slowly between air. She purposely avoided his gaze, embarrassed about the incident.

"Do you need a doctor? I could get Kate," Steve asked like a man on a mission, unblinking.

Liz shook her head, "No. No, I'm okay. She's at the hospital now, anyway. Asthma flares up every once in awhile. I think it was the dust in the closet. But that's why I have this." She held up the little blue plastic dispenser with a metal canister sticking out the tall end.

"Are you sure?" Steve's gaze was relentless.

Liz looked him in the eyes, "Yeah, I'm good." She allowed herself a half smile, "Thank you."

Liz started collecting the spilled items strewn across the coffee table and returning them to her messenger bag. Steve helped to gather a few items that had fallen onto the floor. Among them was Liz's sketchpad that had landed face up and open.

"Is this the same drawing you were working on the other day when I came to the shop?" Steve studied the now fully penned and colored drawing of Captain America. Minus a background, it was still surprisingly lifelike. Liz was a bit shocked that he had remembered it in its rough, pencilled form (or at all if she was going to be truly honest with herself).

Liz blushed, "Yeah, it's just a hobby I have," she shrugged like it was no big deal.

Steve gazed at the drawing for another moment, thumbing the spiraled spine of the sketchpad, "Can I ask you something?" There was a hint of trepidation in his voice, hardly noticeable. Before Liz could reply, Steve added, "Why Captain America?" His gaze still remained on the drawing.

Liz shifted her weight on her feet while she motioned to pull back a loose auburn strand behind her ear. She tried to deflect the question, "HAL and Yoda are over your head, but you know Captain America?" There was a teasing tone in Liz's voice, or she hoped there was at least.

Steve glanced up from the drawing to Liz with a half smile, "Humor me?"

Liz could not discern the look in Steve's eyes. A sudden and swift ripple of rawness flashed across the deep blue pools. If she had not known better, Liz would have construed it as a silent plea. She felt compelled to spill her guts to him, a guy she hardly knew who might as well have been a perfect stranger. And for the first time in a very long while, Liz did not find that idea absolutely terrifying.

"Pops told me a story once when I was little," Liz began, glancing to the drawing herself, "He said it was 'classified information' back in the day when he had first started at his agency, but Pops has been known to embellish the details being the riveting storyteller that he is," Liz was smiling to herself, "He had me convinced that a birth defect was the result of catching a cannon ball in his chest for years," she had started rambling, but saw that Steve still had a small smile.

"Anyway," Liz continued, shaking her train of thought back into place, "He told me this old cliché; that some people are born great, and others have greatness thrust upon them."

Steve interjected softly with a head tilt, "Shakespeare?"

"Is that who started it?" Liz shrugged and moved on. She made a mental note to question Steve about knowing Shakespeare over Yoda later, "Pops said that Cap was neither, that before the star-spangled shield and muscles he was just a little guy who always went out of his way to do the right thing, even if it wasn't the popular thing or even the smart thing to do."

Steve was looking at her intently. Liz glanced back down to the drawing in his hands, "After he acquired his super-strength, Cap went on to do the right thing in a much bigger way. He chose to be great, which is what stuck with me. There were plenty of times where he could of checked out and gone home, but he didn't."

Liz finished her spiel with a shrug, looking up at Steve.

Steve gave a nod and a small smile that could not reach his eyes, then looked down at the drawing once more, "Do you know how you're going to finish it?" he thumbed the spine again before handing the sketchbook to Liz.

She shook her head, "No, not yet," as she accepted the book from him.

"You're very talented. I'm sure you'll think of something." He smiled, looking back at Liz.

Liz shrugged, blushing, "Thanks," she kept her eyes averted as she stowed the sketchpad back in her bag. A moment passed before Liz realized that she was missing a few things. "Oh, I think I left some of my stuff back at your place."

"I'll get it for you." Steve was out the door before Liz could protest. She had a hunch he did not want her to risk going back into the environment that caused her sudden attack a few minutes ago. A moment later, Liz met Steve at the door to her apartment as he returned with her hoodie, phone, and screwdriver.

Liz smiled appreciatively, "Thank you."

"Of course," Steve said smiling, "And thank you for helping me with the washer."

"What are land-ladies for?" Liz shrugged with a joking tone.

Just then, a ringing could be heard from Steve's apartment across the corridor. He looked back towards the sound with furrowed eyebrows, becoming tense.

"You ok?" Liz questioned, slightly worried about the sudden change in his demeanor.

Steve took a few seconds to respond, "Just not expecting a call. There are only a few people who have that number." He looked back at Liz as the landline continued to ring.

"I should probably answer it," Steve started as he turned to leave, "Have a good day— if I don't see you."

"You too."

Liz watched him cross the hall and shut his door before closing her own. She tried to shrug off Steve's tenseness as she immediately went to go put in her contact lenses.

Liz decided that she was going out for lunch.

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **Congratulations! You've finished the super long chapter :-)**

 **If you've enjoyed it, reviews are much appreciated and get me excited to keep this story going! Of course it will keep going either way, but they make me happy ^_^**

 **Bonus points to anyone who can guess why Steve is getting a bit worked up over a phone call ;-)**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4: Liz IV

Chapter 4: Liz IV

Liz was cleaning and unpacking some new curios into a large, old china cabinet inside of Dolan & Sons Antiques, or at least this is what she had started doing before she was distracted by her neighbor outside the gold lettered window of her store. For the past few minutes, Liz had been attempting to subtly observe Steve in his navy baseball cap speaking to a woman with short, bright red hair with her back to Liz.

From her vantage point behind the cabinet, Liz peered around with one eye and noticed that Steve was holding two "to-go" cups with lids in his hands. His expression looked tired. Steve's lips started moving, then stopped a moment later. He must not have liked what the redhead was saying, because Steve started shaking his head, said something else, and walked past her. The redhead turned. Liz thought for a brief second that her face looked familiar, but when the redhead's eyes met hers Liz quickly withdrew behind the china cabinet as she heard the front door of the shop chime open. Liz peered around the opposite side of the cabinet.

"Hey, Steve," she greeted, aiming for nonchalant; though admittedly she was nervous she may have been caught spying. In her defense, it seemed like a very tense exchange and Liz had slightly started to worry.

Steve found her and smiled, "Good morning." He started making his way to the rear of the shop.

Liz waited until Steve had reached her side of the cabinet, "What can I do for you?" She finished polishing an amethyst glass vase and set it on one of the shelves within the china cabinet. She wanted to ask what had gone on outside, but thought better of it. _She could be an ex-girlfriend…_ Liz pondered to herself.

"I, um… I wanted to thank you for helping me with my mobile phone again yesterday," Steve extended one of the cups he was holding, "I hope you like coffee?" Liz had come across Steve by the mailboxes in the entrance hall of the apartment building a few days ago. His eyebrows had been furrowed and directed at a new smartphone with which he was struggling. She had been teaching him about some of the features and answering his questions daily ever since.

Liz smiled, surprised, "Oh yes, you didn't have to do that," her fingers grazed his as she accepted the warm cup with both hands, "But thank you. I was thinking about going for a cup soon." She took a sip. The coffee had already cooled to a drinkable temperature. She tasted cream and sugar, just how she preferred.

"Thinking, with no intention of actually going for several hours," Steve ventured with what might have been a smirk he was trying to hold back.

Liz picked up the now empty box that had been filled with items she had been cleaning and putting on display with one hand and started walking toward the door to the back room half-turned towards Steve, "Pops always reminds me to take a break sooner or later." Liz glanced out the gold lettered window. The redhead was nowhere in sight. Liz found that fact relieving.

"You certainly do keep busy." Steve still had a small smile. He was slowly following her toward the glass counter that ran along the side of the shop from the door to the back room to the gold lettered window in front, perusing the aisle as he went.

"Someone's got to keep this place in order. Pops is no spring chicken anymore," Liz said jokingly and opened the back door without looking.

"I heard that, young lady!" Pops scolded in a mocking tone. Liz jumped as she almost walked into him.

"Sorry, Pops," Liz chuckled lightly.

"No blood, no foul, Sunshine." The old man smiled as he stood in the doorway carrying his cane off the ground. "The dining server I re-stained yesterday is ready to come out. Would you help me move it?"

"You know I don't want you doing any heavy lifting, Pops." Liz was adamant. The last time Pops had tried to move something too large, it was a miracle a dresser had not completely crushed his foot. Pops had started using the cane after being sentenced to a soft cast for almost two months by his doctor. Pops had only been free of the brace a few weeks now, but Liz insisted that he keep the cane near him until the dull twinge in his step was completely gone; and the old man indulged her.

"Well, then it's a good thing you have a strapping, young lad here to help you." Pops motioned his cane toward Steve, who had given the old man his full attention. Liz felt her face beginning to turn red as her heart jumped in her chest. _Very subtle, Pops…_ she thought to herself. Liz was convinced that the old man wanted Steve on her non-existent romantic agenda. Not that she minded spending time with Steve, which was growing more and more frequent (albeit mostly involving Liz providing him technological advice and lending him some movies), but that was beside the point. Liz, plainly, did not like the idea of being set up.

"I don't mind," Steve stepped forward after a moment's silence with a smile, "It'd be the least I could do after everything you've both done for me."

"Thank you, lad! You know, I could get used to having an extra set of hands around here." Pops led Steve through the door to the backroom. Liz followed trying to hide the embarrassed look on her face, and trying even harder not to notice Steve's apparent strapping-ness. On second thought, maybe spending time with Steve was not the best idea given her clear overreaction to a comment about his physique. _Perfect as— No, don't even finished that thought,_ Liz mentally scolded herself from behind Steve, _Stop it, Liz. You're only going to get your hopes up again…_

As it turned out, that extra pair of hands around the shop once in awhile was not all that bad. Steve would show up in the shop from time to time throughout the week with a much needed coffee for Liz and a chocolate donut for Pops (the man loved his sweets) when it seemed like he had some time to kill. Wednesday afternoons seemed to be the only sure day for this over subsequent weeks, where Steve would come in with a particularly somber expression. This seemed to dissipate most quickly when Pops started explaining the origins of certain objects in the shop as they went through aisles and eventually even through shelves in the back room. It was not long before Pops was trying to convince Steve to accept his invitation to come over for dinner. Steve however, ever the gentlemen, would graciously decline as he did not want to impose. When Pops started trying to rope Liz into these dinner invites as what seemed like an incentive for Steve, Liz was grateful to be able to use picking up the Schaeffer twins from school that afternoon as a route of escape from Pops' scheming.

"Sorry, Pops, I need to get Billy and Emma. Catherine will be working late tonight so I was going to entertain them upstairs. You can handle things here for the rest of the afternoon?" Liz asked, zipping up her white hoodie and slinging her messenger bag over one shoulder.

"Yes, yes I'll be fine. You forget I'm the one who taught you everything you know about running this place, Sunshine," Pops countered.

Liz smirked mischievously, "What about the new point of sale system?"

Pops glowered at the computer monitor sitting on the counter, "You can take that glorified calculator and throw it out the window for all I care."

Liz snickered, "Easy, Pops. It's not that bad. If Steve can get the hang of these 'new fangled gadgets', as you like to call them, so can you." She kissed Pops on the cheek before starting towards the front door.

"I'm not sure whether or not I should take that as compliment." Steve made a half smile from behind a table filled with old tin wind-up toys. Liz just glanced back at him with a smirk as she left the shop. A fair amount of teasing and playfully snide comments had been slowly making its way into their exchanges, but Liz decided she would keep him wondering about that one. The front door chimed as it opened and then shut behind her.

Liz walked a brisk pace a few blocks over to to catch the Metro, weaving in and out of pedestrians meandering down the sidewalk. The Catholic school that the twins attended was only a few stops down the Red Line, but if she missed the next train she would most certainly be late to collect Billy and Emma. Liz skipped down the stairs into the underground station and found a vacant kiosk where she purchased a roundtrip ticket and made it through the turnstyle just as the car was slowing to a stop at the platform. The station was not particularly crowded as most of the people who used it lived in the immediate semi-suburb area, and it was not quite yet rush hour. The doors to the car opened, and Liz waited for a few people to come out before she entered and found a seat in the nearly empty car with her back towards the window. She pulled out her phone to check some notifications as she waited for the doors to close and the car to start moving. She was vaguely aware of two other passengers entering the car. One of them took the seat directly across from her.

"Lizzie?" A familiar voice seemed to question. Liz's glance darted up quickly as the doors of the car sealed shut. She was met with dark eyes framed by a chiseled face with a surprised expression topped with short, thick black hair that was a bit mussed. A sudden shot of adrenaline coursed out from the pit of her stomach to the end of her limbs and back again in a minor panic.

"Jason," Liz almost stuttered. Running into her ex-boyfriend had not quite been part of her expectations for the day, especially since he had been the one to call it off. _And move out of the building without any warning whatsoever…_ Liz reminded herself. She took a slight pleasure in the fact that Jason looked almost as surprised as she felt.

"What are you doing here?" Jason asked. He gazed at her, as if thoroughly confused.

The adrenaline spiked to Liz's head, and she felt her eyebrows furrowing into an annoyed expression. _Is he serious?_ She pocketed her phone as she crossed her arms and legs, leaning back in the plastic seat. Her eyes began to narrow on his face into a glare, "What do you mean, what am I doing here? You know I live a few blocks away from this station. Same place you were once."

Jason leaned forward, looking at her intently and propping himself by putting his elbows on his thighs and crossing his hands. "I thought— You were supposed to be in New York."

Liz tilted her head and looked at Jason as if he had sprouted two, eyebrows still furrowed, "Why the hell would I be in New York?"

"I…" Jason looked at the space of floor between his feet, "I found the email you got from Stark Industries. I thought for sure you would nail the interview…"

Liz felt her blood begin to boil, "You went through my _email_?" she asked incredulously. An edge had creeped into her tone.

Jason looked up with narrowed eyes, "You never even told me that you applied for the job."

"I did not apply for the job."

"Oh, please," Jason scoffed and leaned back in his seat again, "Research and Development for Aerospace Technology. Do you seriously expect me to believe that you would pass up a position – at one of _the_ most prestigious companies I might add – in your field of study? That Masters' Degree hanging above your bed is just for show, then?"

Liz's eyes scanned Jason's searching for anything that might make this conversation make an atom of sense. It was already longer than the one they had had when Liz found out that Jason was moving out of his unit directly below her on the second floor of the apartment building.

"I did _not_ apply for the job," Liz repeated with emphasis, "Pops had one of his contacts make a call. Thought he was helping me get my life in order." She looked away from Jason to the floor somewhere towards her right at nothing in particular. Liz was determined not to make a scene in public even though she was fuming.

The car slowed and stopped as it reached the next station. A few passengers exited the car as a greater number began to spill into it. Jason took the opportunity to relocate to the empty seat on Liz's left.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jason's tone had softened. Liz felt his eyes on her. He had positioned himself half-turned towards her in his seat, arm resting on top of the back of her chair. The familiar scent of his cologne wafted subtly in her direction. There seemed to be a chemical calming reaction as the smell hit her brain. Liz mentally cursed as she fought the urge to lean into him, realizing then how much she missed physical contact between her and someone she loved; someone she believed had also loved her. _You do not love Jason anymore,_ Liz reminded herself.

"There was nothing to tell." Liz could not bring herself to look at him. She knew he would see right through her if she did. Liz would never give him the satisfaction of telling Jason that she had never had any intention of leaving him behind. Not after what happened between the two of them. Not after the way he had abandoned her. The doors closed and the car resumed its course.

"You never went to the interview, did you?" Jason's eyes felt like they were burning a hole in the side of Liz's face. It sounded like he may have started to smile.

"After you moved out we had a video conference. Turned them down. Couldn't leave Pops all by himself." Liz made an effort to put some distance between herself and Jason. There was a conflict raging inside her; torn between welcoming the closeness of his proximity again and telling him what he could go do with himself.

Jason seemed to notice. He leaned back slightly, "I was an idiot…" He withdrew his arm from around Liz's chair and folded his hands between his knees.

A realization began to dawn on Liz. Any conflict that may have been battling inside her stopped. Anger took over, "That's why you left? You thought I was leaving so you wanted to beat me to it?"

"It was your ideal gig, Lizzie… I didn't think you would pass it up for anything."

"You obviously don't know me very well." The car began to slow and Liz stood up to get out at the next stop.

"Much better than you think. Say hello to Billy and Emma for me." Jason began to smile.

"How did you—" Liz seethed, looking down at him while holding onto a metal pole to stabilize herself as the car swayed back and forth.

"You're a creature of habit, sweetheart." Jason's smile transformed into a devious smirk.

"Don't call me that," Liz demanded sharply as the car finally stopped. The doors slid open.

"I'll talk to you later, Lizzie." Jason had the nerve to _wink_ at her.

Liz gave a final scowl, then swiftly exited the car.

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **Thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter! Real life has unfortunately been cutting into my writing time, but I promise this story will continue soon. Special thanks to** **OfficialAidenRose** **over on Wattpad again for being a fantastic beta reader. They are also my kick in the pants to be sure I make time for actually writing the chapters that I have outlined.**

 **Chapters 5 and 6 have already had their plans finalized. Chapter 5 WILL BE posted before September 2015 is over, I promise :-)**

 **As always, reviews and favorites are very much appreciated and make me happy :-) I always love hearing what my readers think about a story!**

 **Thanks for reading ^_^**


	5. Chapter 5: Liz V

Chapter 5: Liz V

Liz wove in and out of people on her way towards the escalator that would take her out of the Metro station. This particular stop was closer to the main part of Washington, D.C. and much busier as a result. The crowd did not help the foul mood that had taken hold during her ride with Jason.

 _Arrogant… Two-faced… Childish…_ were some of the kinder adjectives that came to Liz's mind as she decided to bypass the crowded escalator in favor of the stairs, _And yet he can still sway your emotions with little more than a look…_ Liz shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. She would be damned if she was going to let him stay rent free in her mind. She was unsuccessful. _I need to find a distraction…_

Liz walked briskly a few blocks until she came upon the front entrance of St. Hedwig's Catholic School. She waited a few moments at her usual spot near the school bus drop off until students began to spill out of the front entrance of the school and down the white stone steps.

"Lizzie!" Emma ran up to Liz and hugged her around the middle, instantly making Liz smile.

"Hey Emma, how was your day? Where's your brother?"

Liz saw Billy walking up to them slowly. His head was bent low, as if he were trying to hide his face, and his white school shirt was untucked from his uniform khakis. A backpack was slung lazily across one shoulder with one hand holding it in place. In the other he clutched a slightly rumpled looking envelope.

"He didn't have a good day…" Emma tried to explain, her face falling. In contrast to her brother, her uniformed ensemble looked positively pristine.

Liz bent down to Billy's level and noticed a discoloration near what she could see of his left eye.

"Billy, what happened? Let me see you…" Liz ever so gently lifted Billy's chin so that he would look at her. He did not try to fight it, though his eyes continued to look away, ashamed. Liz saw what was unmistakably a bruise covering Billy's left eyebrow, temple, and upper cheek.

"Teddy Thompson punched him in the face," Emma volunteered brashly.

"Is this the same kid who's been giving you a hard time the last couple weeks?" Liz's tone was sharp. She thought of the twins as the little brother and sister that she had never had, and protective-big-sister mode was starting to kick into high gear. She was not usually like this, but Liz had not been having the best of days so far and this new development was not helping her Irish temperament.

Billy just nodded and let his gaze fall to his feet. Liz stood up and started walking determinedly towards the front of the school. The twins ran after her.

"Lizzie, where are you going?" Billy was jogging next to her to keep up with her pace.

Liz's mind was made up, "I want to speak to your teacher about this."

"No, wait!" Billy tugged on her hand for her to stop and Liz complied, "They already called mom and gave me a note," he waved the rumpled envelope he was holding up for Liz to see, "Can we just go home?"

Liz softened when she saw the earnest look on Billy's face. It was an expression of just wanting the day to be over and done with. On second thought, Liz doubted anyone at the school would be willing to talk to her anyway since she was not his parent and legally had no business getting involved. She sighed.

"Of course," Liz smiled at him and began going through their typical pick-up checklist, "Do you guys have all your books? Lunchboxes? Blazers?" The twins smiled and nodded at each pause, "Then let's go home."

Some walking, a ride on the Metro, and a bit more walking later Liz, Billy and Emma were back at the apartment building.

"Do you think mom would let me take karate lessons?" Billy voiced hopefully as they climbed the stairs, "Then I could kick Teddy Thompson's butt!"

"Only if I can take them too!" Emma chimed.

Liz was glad at the upturn in Billy's mood but felt the need to respond responsibly, "Just because you _can_ beat someone up, doesn't mean that you _should_." However, Liz actually thought that self-defense lessons could be beneficial for Billy's self esteem.

"I'll make a deal with you," Liz started. The twins paused on the stairs intrigued and looked at her intently, "If we get your homework done fast, I'll try talking to your mom about it."

Billy and Emma's eyes widened hopefully. Simultaneously they shouted "Deal!" and started racing up the stairs ahead of Liz.

"Oh goodness!" Liz suddenly heard a woman call from the stairwell above her. She began hurrying after the twins as they chorused "Sorry, Miss Kate!" Liz turned onto the landing to find her other third floor neighbor laughing (Kate lived in the apartment adjacent to Steve's unit, across the hall from Liz), dressed in pale blue hospital scrubs and holding her wicker laundry basket with both hands.

"It's okay, you just caught me by surprise is all. Billy, honey, what happened to your eye?" Kate questioned concerned, stooping slightly to look at him.

"I got in a fight at school…" Billy trailed off shyly, lowering his face.

"Do you think he should see a doctor, Kate?" Liz took the opportunity to ask. Having a nurse for a neighbor had its perks, even if she worked odd, long hours and was seldom seen.

Kate smiled at Liz and then back at Billy. He looked up so that she could take a closer look as she knelt down.

"It doesn't look like his eye was affected. Just the skin around it. A little bit of ice now and then and you'll be good as new in no time." Kate smiled at Billy warmly.

"That's a relief. Thank you," Liz said.

"Thank you, Miss Kate," Billy echoed, then began racing up the stairs with Emma once again.

"You're welcome, honey," Kate called after them, "I get the feeling they can be quite the handful," Kate laughed as she moved to pass Liz on her way down the stairs.

Liz smiled and shook her head as she began to follow the twins, "You have no idea."

They stopped at the twins' second floor apartment so that Billy and Emma could change out of their school uniforms before heading upstairs to Liz's unit. The twins found Liz's apartment much more entertaining than their own, but then again most ten-year-olds would. Liz credited this to her video game consoles and extensive movie collection (which boasted a pretty impressive animated film section), as well as a respectable catalog of comic books old and new, many of which she had inherited from her father.

True to their word, the twins immediately sat down and unpacked their books at the table in the dining area off of Liz's kitchen. Liz poured them each some apple juice and put out a snack bowl full of trail mix on the table and joined them. Luckily, there was not much homework for them to do today. Liz helped Billy and Emma write and proofread their compositions for English, followed by some math which required them to divide fractions by fractions (to their dismay). Liz attempted to explain that it was more a matter of cross multiplication, to which Billy exclaimed, "What sorcery is this?!" and Emma concluded, "That's much easier!" All in all, homework was completed in less than an hour's time.

"Can we play some video games, Lizzie?" Billy asked excitedly.

Emma liked the idea, "Yeah! Please, Lizzie?"

"Fine by me. First one to the couch picks!" Liz declared in attempt to avoid that argument, and the twins dashed over to the living room area and hopped over the back of the couch.

"I win!" Emma announced proudly.

Billy sighed, "Just don't pick anything stupid."

"Let's play Wii Sports Boxing. You need to practice." Emma decided, referring to her brother's incident earlier at school.

"Hey!" Billy responded affronted.

"It's true!" Emma teased.

Billy gave in reluctantly, "I know…"

Liz moved the coffee table out of the way as the twins loaded up the game and chose the digital avatars they had made of themselves in the past.

"Now, I want a fair match you guys. The cartoons are the only ones doing the fighting!" Liz had seated herself in the arm chair off to the side as she listed off the house rules that had been created after such proceedings had occurred in the past: "No tickling. No foot tapping or kicking. No using the Wii controller as a ranged weapon!"

The twins agreed with a "Yes, Lizzie!" as the match began.

Several matches had been played with cheering, boasting, or dismay loudly being proclaimed by any of the parties involved at any given moment. Liz had been tapped in by each of the twins during a few rounds in an attempt for one of them to make a comeback. Liz had just collapsed on the couch after tapping Emma back in when she heard a soft knock on her door.

Liz stood up and straightened her clothing out a bit before going to the door. She peeked through the eyehole in the door quickly before opening it.

"Hey Steve," Liz smiled, slightly breathless from moving around just a moment ago.

Steve smiled back, "Hello."

"What's up?" Liz brushed a loose strand of auburn hair out of her face. She was not expecting him, but Liz found that she was happy to see him.

"I was just in my apartment," Steve started, holding something out for Liz, "and I heard a ruckus." Steve was trying not to smirk by the end of his sentence.

Liz looked down at the DVD case he was holding out for her and tried not to laugh as she took back the copy of _The Breakfast Club_ that she had lent Steve yesterday. Liz bit her lip smiling, understanding his reference to the movie as she shifted her weight to one foot and looked back at him, "Could you _describe_ the ruckus, sir?"

Just then a loud cheer from Billy was heard behind Liz in the apartment as Emma groaned.

"Well, it was something like that," Steve laughed lightly.

"We've got the video games going. It's getting a little intense," Liz explained with a smile as she motioned for Steve to come in, "What did you think of the movie?" Liz placed the DVD case on the coffee table that had been moved off to the side nearest her as Steve entered and closed the door.

"I liked it. It wasn't what I was expecting." Steve put his hands in his jeans pockets as he looked at what was happening on the television screen and then to Billy and Emma who were engrossed in the heat of battle, "What in the world are you guys doing?" He asked from behind the couch, amused.

"We're teaching Billy how to fight so he might stand a chance against Teddy Thompson!" Emma stated matter-of-factly. She swung a final punch at the screen as Billy's avatar fell to the floor. Billy was unable to recover and the match ended.

"Shit!" Billy shouted as he fell back on the couch.

Liz's eyes widened as she reflexively responded with, "Language!" in a tone that sounded quite shocked.

"Sorry, Lizzie…" Billy gave her an apologetic look as he sat up from the couch. His eye looked slightly puffier than it had before.

"I think it's time we put some ice on that shiner there, Rocky." Liz went into the kitchen to find something cold for Billy to put on his eye as she heard Emma giggle.

"What happened here?" Liz could hear Steve from where she was in the kitchen. He sounded genuinely concerned.

Billy responded after a moment, "A kid in my class has been picking on me. I was trying to ignore him today at recess but I don't think he liked that so he hit me."

"And what then?" Liz heard Steve ask as she pulled a bag of peas out of her freezer.

Billy's tone sounded defeated, "And… I fell down."

"Did you get back up?" Steve questioned gently as Liz wrapped the bag of peas in a clean dish towel.

"Of course not, I didn't want to get hit again." Billy sounded like the idea of getting up was a suicide mission, "There were a couple other kids with him… And a teacher was coming over."

Liz stood quietly leaning against the archway on the threshold of the kitchen as she watched Steve with Billy. Both Billy and Emma were kneeling on the couch with their arms folded on the back. Steve had taken one knee behind the couch so that he was at Billy's eye level, his back to Liz.

Steve spoke softly but encouragingly, "Always get back up. And if they swing at you again, you swing back."

Liz found herself being deeply moved by Steve trying to help Billy. The boy had been lacking a proper male role model in his daily life since the twins' father, Mark, was currently on deployment. _Jason never made that much of an effort with them…_ Liz mentally slapped herself the moment she finished the thought for comparing her ex-boyfriend on some level with Steve. Steve was not now nor had ever been her significant other, so why did it matter? Liz did not want to think about the answer to her own question, butshe was happy that the twins and Steve had taken a liking to each other during some afternoons spent down in the shop together.

Billy's eyes widened slightly, "But then I'd have _two_ black eyes! And I've never tried to punch anyone for real before."

"Never let a bully think you're an easy target. Give 'em enough of a hassle and they'll leave you alone," Steve got up and walked around to the front of the couch. The twins turned to sit properly on the couch in order to keep facing him.

Emma interjected, "How do you know so much about bullies?" Liz could see Emma cross her arms, as if she did not believe that Steve was qualified to talk about such things.

"It happened to me a lot before I— When I was a kid." Steve seemed to change what he was going to say mid-sentence, Liz noticed. However, she found that small piece of information about his past very surprising for a few reasons. For one thing, Liz found it hard to believe that a man of his stature and physique would have anyone dare to so much as look at him the wrong way, much less give him a hard time on purpose. _He seems like such a gentle soul, though…_ Liz thought to herself, _I guess someone who comes off as being so nice could be seen as weak…_ Not that Liz agreed, but bullies seemed to have a radar for a certain kind of person.

"I don't think this game is going to help you learn how to defend yourself right," Steve stated, "but I can teach you a couple moves that could."

Billy jumped up from the couch, "You can?" He sounded ecstatic.

"I want to learn too, Steve!" Emma had also jumped up, not wanting to be left out.

Liz stifled a giggle from her place in the archway. Steve looked at her after hearing the noise and found her gaze in a way that seemed to ask for permission, "As long as that's okay with Liz."

"I have no problem with that," Liz started as she walked over to the front of the couch, handing the wrapped frozen peas to Billy who just held it in his hands, "As long as you two remember it's for self-defense only, or your mother might have my head."

The twins looked at her before turning back to Steve, "We promise!"

Steve smiled and took a defensive stance, bringing closed fists up to his face in demonstration, "Lesson one. Protect your face like this…"

A few minutes past as Steve took the time to help Billy and Emma form proper fists, the best way to keep them up so that their faces were not left vulnerable, and how to place their feet in order to stay balanced. The frozen peas lay forgotten on the couch. Liz had returned to sit in the armchair off to the side, watching intently. Before long, Steve was holding up a throw pillow which he had taken from the couch that the twins took turns punching in order to get their swing down. Steve encouraged them every time and kindly corrected things that needed improvement. After several rotations, Billy wanted a bit more.

"But Steve, what do I do if someone tries to hit _me_?" Billy asked, voicing his biggest concern.

"I can teach you that, too…" Steve trailed off, "But it would be easier to show you with someone closer to my size." It took Liz a moment to realize that he was looking at her when he said this. Her eyes widened slightly, speechless. She had never done any kind of real sparring before. The twins were looking at her too.

"Please, Lizzie?" Billy begged, his sister echoed, "Yeah, please?!"

"Fine, fine," Liz got up from the chair, a defeated smile on her face. She straightened out her t-shirt and removed her phone from her back jeans pocket, setting it on the end table that created the corner between the couch and her armchair. She glanced at Steve and saw that he was smiling, too.

"What are you smiling about? I'll have you know that I'm the resident Wii Boxing champion. You should be scared," Liz teased as she removed the dog tags from around her neck and set them next to her phone.

"Is that so?" There was a mocking tone to Steve's voice as he tilted his head to the side, "Show me how it's done, then. Why don't you kids give us some room?" It was the first time Liz had ever seen Steve allow himself to fully smirk unrestrained. Liz was momentarily entranced by the fire that flashed across his blue eyes for hardly a second before it was gone. The twins rushing passed to sit in the armchair behind her snapped Liz out of it. Liz had no prior real life training in this sort of thing whatsoever, but she took what she hoped was an imposing defensive stance as she spread and staggered her feet and brought her fists up to her face. She swayed slightly back and forth from foot to foot.

"Come at me," Steve encouraged. He was in a similar stance and motioned for her to move towards him with one hand.

Liz took a few steps forward and made to swing her first punch with her right arm. She did so in a reserved manner, as this was all for show and not a real fight of course. As soon as her arm entered Steve's space it was quickly yet ever so gently deflected outward with his left hand as he made to punch with his right, stopping his fist half a foot from Liz's face. She jumped slightly at the sudden motion.

"Distract and react at the same time," Steve said to the twins, "You can do better than that, Liz."

"I don't want to risk hurting you." Liz was being genuine as she dropped her arms. She had no intention of actually hitting Steve, not that she thought she had any chance of getting past his shielded stance anyway.

"Don't worry, you won't," he laughed in a friendly tone as Liz gave him a skeptical look, "Come on, I won't block you this time," Steve said standing up straight and relaxing his arms, "Hit me in the stomach."

Liz furrowed her eyebrows, "Seriously?"

"Go on," he encouraged, "with some muscle this time."

"Okay…" Liz agreed against her better judgement. She got back into a fighting stance, took a breath, looked Steve in the eye one more time, and then back to her target as she swung her arm with what she thought was a considerable amount of force into Steve's abdomen. He was unphased. Liz felt rock hard muscles underneath his shirt, and a groove of what must have been the definition between two muscles in what she was imagining as an impressive six pack. _Stop undressing him with your eyes, you weirdo!_ Liz scolded herself.

Steve teased, "You call that muscle?"

"I am _literally_ half your size, Hercules." Liz countered, dropping her arms and looking up at his face.

Steve laughed as he resumed a fighting stance, "Come at me again."

Liz threw another punch at full speed. Steve quickly yet gently deflected and twisted around so that he managed to mock-elbow her in the back of the head, dictating his movements to the twins who were absorbing it all in amazement. Steve had Liz throw punch after punch, alternating between arms as he demonstrated different ways to deflect and counter each attack.

Liz's blood was starting pump after a few demonstrations and she began to lose focus on any words that seemed to be coming out of Steve's mouth. Most of her attention had been drawn to their fluctuating proximity, his muscles flexing under what she was now sure was a intentionally too small white t-shirt, and his absolute control over every movement. _Stop kidding yourself, Lizzie. You are absolutely attracted to this guy and there's no doubt about it,_ she finally admitted to herself.

Liz realized that Steve was purposely being extraordinarily gentle each time he diverted her hand or arm, like she was a glass doll he was trying not to break. She wanted to prove to him that she could be formidable in spite of her below average size. Liz forced herself to focus as a flame lit inside her and started giving this her all. Steve must have noticed the change in her demeanor, because his eyes lingered on hers as he held her wrist gently after having flipped her arm downward. He grinned as Liz saw the hidden fire in his sapphire eyes return. She smirked back. Steve's demonstration took a more physical turn.

This went on for what seemed like quite some time until Liz felt her muscles start to weaken. She normally did not do much working out, and she was starting to regret that decision. Adrenaline had started pumping through her as she felt herself starting to shake. Steve asked for her to attack him again and she complied. Liz felt her elbow buckle as she somehow managed to actually connect with Steve's bicep, and then lost her footing as he slid her fist cross-body. Steve managed to catch Liz in his arms before she went down.

"Alright there?" Steve asked with a soft tone, worried. He was holding her gently against his chest for support. Liz was a bit shell-shocked for a brief moment, half disoriented from whatever twisty thing Steve just did and half distracted by the feeling of his strong chest and arms around her. His muscles were chiseled beneath the fabric of his shirt yet soft at the same time, gently rocking her as he breathed in and out evenly, and his warmth and masculine scent were absolutely intoxicating as she breathed him in. She could feel him looking down at her. Neither of them made to move out of this new position.

Somewhere off to her side, Liz heard her phone start ringing. She immediately snapped out of her trance as she came to her senses and quickly backed away from Steve a few steps, looking at the floor and feeling her cheeks flush with nervous embarrassment as she slid her hands into her back pockets.

"Ewww, it's Jason!" Emma had picked up Liz's phone and was holding it out in front of her with two fingers, as if she were holding a dead mouse by the tail. The look on her face was of pure disgust. The phone continued to ring as Liz stared at it, paralyzed by the caller ID and digital contact photo facing her. It was a selfie that Jason had taken of the two of them hugging and looking at the camera while they had still been together. Liz felt her blood run cold, as it had earlier that afternoon when she had encountered Jason on the train.

Billy grabbed the phone and started tapping at the screen vigorously with his finger, "Push 'ignore'! Lizzie doesn't want to talk him!"

Liz snapped into action, "Hey, easy there kid!" She said regaining possession of the phone. It had gone silent; the photo disappeared.

"Why do you still have a picture of him? I thought he broke your heart!" Emma asked folding her arms, still disgusted.

"Don't talk about it, Emma! You're going to make her sad!" Billy scolded his sister quickly.

Liz looked at the twins absolutely mortified. Her back was to Steve and she could feel his eyes on her. She could not bring herself to face him out of embarrassment. At that moment she would rather have crawled into a corner and keeled over. Liz took a deep breath.

"It's no big deal," she said slowly, much more calmly than she thought she was capable of. Nevertheless she needed to pause before continuing. She was still trembling slightly, but noticeably. The silence was deafening. Liz decided to change the subject, "It's getting late. Your mom will be home any minute. Why don't you two get your stuff together?"

"Okay," the twins agreed with remorseful looks on their faces, realizing they had brought up a touchy subject, and went over to the dining area to pack up their school books that had been left on the table.

Liz turned around to look at Steve. The emotion on his face was difficult to read. Concern or worry maybe, but there was something else there that Liz could not quite make out. His eyes had a slight stormy look to them.

"Ex-boyfriend," Liz explained quickly, holding up the phone before returning it to her back pocket. A contrite half smile formed on her lips as she averted her gaze to a corner of the floor.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked softly. He never took his eyes off of her.

Liz tried to brush off what just happened, "Yeah, I'm just out of shape. My muscles gave out there for a moment."

Steve took a few steps toward her and reached his arms out to steady her shoulders, "You're still shaking. You're sure you're just tired?" Liz could feel Steve's eyes boring into her soul. Liz knew he was silently asking her to open up about the scene that had just unfolded with the phone and the twins. She was seriously considering it. Uncovering a sensitive part of her past would bring their friendship to a new level, at the very least. _Is that what you want? A friendship?_ Liz asked herself. She did not get the chance to think about the answer as another knock sounded at the door.

"That's probably Catherine." Liz stepped away from Steve to answer the door.

"Hi, Catherine. How was work?" Liz greeted.

Catherine gave a tired smile, "It was a long day. There were multiple depositions that needed summarizing today from a few cases my firm is working on." Catherine was one of the head paralegals at a law firm in central Washington, D.C. that specialized in criminal prosecution. Working in that field often required her to stay late if critical documents were needed for review in a particular case.

Catherine shared a brief and polite greeting with Steve as she entered the apartment, and the twins came and greeted their mother happily. After a thorough inspection of Billy's eye (Catherine had _many_ things to say about the situation and the Thompson family, none of them good) and a double-check for any personal belongings that may have been left behind, Liz said goodbye to twins as Catherine thanked her immensely for her help as always. On his way out the door, Billy whispered "Karate?!" to Liz, to which she had responded with hushed tone and a wink, "Let mom cool off about that eye first," and closed the door behind them.

Liz turned back to the living room to see Steve perusing her movie collection. She walked over to stand next to him, trying to follow his eyes, "See anything you like?"

Steve smiled and shrugged, his hands were in his pockets, "What do you recommend?"

Liz scanned the spines of the many cases lining the shelf. She could be very indecisive about picking out something to watch, but her eyes doubled back at something she had just passed, "How about _Indiana Jones_?" Liz suggested. Before she could second guess herself she added, "We could watch it together… I haven't seen any of them in a while."

Steve looked at her. His smile met his eyes, "I'd like that. I haven't seen them."

Liz rolled her eyes, "Of course you haven't. Seriously, dude, where have you _been_?" she laughed as she pulled _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ off the self.

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **I know it's been a while since I last updated and it's a little long, but my beta reader and I have both been busy the past few weeks!**

 **I hope that you all enjoy this chapter, I had fun writing it! Tried to throw in some feels all around, but the next chapter will be LOADED with them ;-)**

 **If there was something you loved (or something you didn't!) I'd like to know about it in the reviews!**

 **Special thanks as always to** **OfficialAidenRose** **over on Wattpad for making sure that I stay on target with plot and use proper grammar :-)**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6: Steve I

Chapter 6: Steve I

Steve Rogers sat at the desk by the window within the living room of the apartment which S.H.I.E.L.D. Deputy Director Maria Hill had designated for him. He had been living in Washington, D.C. for almost two months now. The hustle and bustle of the Nation's Capital was a drastic change to the rustic cabin in which he had stayed for the better part of the past year in the north-western part of the country. S.H.I.E.L.D. had suggested the cabin as a good place for Captain Rogers to adjust to his seventy-year jump into the future. A good place for him to "get his head back on straight" were the words Director Nick Fury had used after boasting that this particular cabin had been designed by Doctor Bruce Banner himself, because "the Hulk would know" about such things.

The morning sun poured a light golden glow onto the short pile of manila colored folders in front of Steve on the desk, all of which had been given to him by the therapist that S.H.I.E.L.D. insisted he visit to treat something they referred to as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Steve was not very fond of these weekly sessions. They always began the same way: "How are you feeling, Captain Rogers?" Doctor Andrew Garner would ask. Steve never gave much more than a "Well," or "Fine," in response. He would then have his brain probed for the better part of an hour. In their most recent session that had taken place this morning, Doctor Garner had inquired about the extent of the Captain's relationship with one Margaret "Peggy" Carter during what was now referred to as World War II, among some of his other comrades. Steve could barely formulate a response before a knot formed in the base of his throat as he fought back an onslaught of emotions: sorrow, regret, the future that might have been… It was still more than Steve could bare to think about for too long, even after almost a year of being awake. The doctor did not press the question any further that day.

At the end of their appointment, Doctor Garner had asked, "Do you think you're ready to return to the field?" Steve had pondered the question for a moment. He had been living the quiet life for almost a year. The Battle of New York was something for which he had absolutely not been mentally prepared. Apparently they had won the war in his time, but the world was still fighting over seventy years later. Steve could not shake the feeling that maybe it was all a futile effort. He gave the doctor his honest reply, "I don't think I want to." Steve theorized that Doctor Garner did not like his answer, because then for the first time since their sessions had started Doctor Garner assigned Steve "homework."

Steve opened the first folder on the desk in his apartment. He immediately found that it contained personnel dossiers of his Howling Commando's team and other long-lost friends from his day. Steve was not sure if this was some kind of punishment or if the doctor was trying to prove him a point. Regardless, Steve forced himself through each photograph and each line of the documents within the folder, learning how the lives of his former teammates had played out. Some had passed away shortly after Steve's disappearance during the war, while others had led a long life of service. He was particularly surprised to find a file on Howard Stark in this folder and noted the uncanny resemblance between Howard and his son Tony, and then hurt to see that his friend had died in an automobile accident with his wife, orphaning their only child at a young age. The next file was one he had been hoping not to come across, but the suspicion and dread of finding it had grown with each file he passed. Steve turned the next page slowly. His eyes caught Peggy's in the black and white photograph held to the page by a paper clip, just as he remembered her. Steve quickly slammed the folder shut.

Steve pushed himself away from the desk and leaned back in his chair. He sat there for a moment attempting to swallow the lump in his throat. When it was gone, Steve stood up from the desk chair and pushed it back into place slowly. He lingered there, holding onto the back of the chair with both hands and leaning over it to look out the window in front of him at nothing in particular. The chair creaked under his weight. _I need some air,_ Steve decided. He went to his bedroom to pick up his baseball cap off the top of his dresser. As he turned to exit, a familiar round star-spangled shield caught his eye from the corner of the room on the floor propped against the wall. Director Fury had insisted that Steve hold on to it as a reminder of what he was meant to be when Steve had told him that he needed time to think about just that. He glared at the battle worn shield, as if the metal object itself were somehow responsible for Steve feeling slighted in some way. He crossed the room and picked up the shield. Steve stared at it for a moment before turning to open his closet door, placing the shield on the floor inside with the star facing the wall, then shut it away. Steve closed the bedroom door behind him as he left.

Steve's attempt at clearing his mind was not as successful as he would have hoped. His mind was swimming in the past with the people who had been left behind. Everywhere he looked as he walked through the streets, there were more things strange to him than he found familiar. Everything from the way people dressed to the cars they drove, and words they said seemed like a whole new world. After a while, Steve's head began to ache behind his forehead from the furrowed expression he had not realized he was holding combined with unintentionally over-analyzing every new thing his senses were processing. He needed a reprieve from his break.

Steve sighed as he came within view of a local deli he had taken to frequenting. He was impressed with the never ending array of sandwiches that he had been trying one by one for lunch (the food in this century was a vast improvement from back in his day) and they made good coffee. That last thought made Steve reach for what he was told was a "smartphone" in his pocket. S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided him this high tech gadget that could perform an extraordinary number of tasks. He suspected that they were somehow using it to keep an eye on him, but at the present moment Steve was quite intrigued with the feature that allowed for instant written messages between two people, or "texting" as he had heard Liz call it when she first showed Steve how to actually do it. He went into the messaging area of the touch screen and tapped out a brief message to Liz awkwardly with his index finger:

 _Coffee?_

Liz and her grandfather, John (whom Steve had also taken to calling "Pops" at both of their insistence) were always going out of their way to accommodate Steve, and he could not be more grateful. They were good people and Steve felt guilty for not being completely honest with them about who he really was on a daily basis. It had been strongly suggested to him by Agent Hill that Steve keep his true identity on a need-to-know basis for his own security. It was difficult walking the line between seeming genuinely curious about certain topics that were brought up from either of them and coming off as completely incompetent and poorly versed in popular culture or modern technology, especially with Liz. Almost half the sentences that Liz spoke to him went over his head; and almost half the sentences that Steve spoke to her were only half truths. That may have been the reason Steve had started trying to reciprocate their generosity by helping them out in their store as some sort of atonement. The phone buzzed in Steve's hand and he saw that Liz had replied to his message:

 _Stupid question. Yes. Always yes :-)_

For the first time that day, Steve allowed himself to smile. On second thought, maybe atonement was not the only reason. Maybe he liked the time he spent with them. Maybe he liked doing something normal. Listening to Pops proudly talk about all the history held within his store made Steve feel less out of place somehow. Catching up on films and learning how to use these "new fangled gadgets" (as Pops put it) with Liz was actually something he had started looking forward to, something he had not felt since before he woke up in the twenty-first century. Pops was also showing him how to fix up old seemingly broken things, which Steve found cathartic on multiple levels. Steve loved the way Liz's emerald eyes lit up whenever he understood a reference or indulged a playfully snarky remark and threw either one back at her. He'd forgotten what having a friend could be like…

Steve ordered two coffees with cream and sugar to go and Pops' usual chocolate donut from the teenaged boy behind the deli counter. He paid the boy with a plastic card that Agent Hill had assured him was as good as actual money in most places before heading back towards the storefront of Dolan & Sons Antiques.

Steve walked along the sunny side of the street as he made his way back. He was glad that he had forgone his jacket when leaving his apartment as the sun splashed down warmly on his back. The weather was changing, and Steve was glad for it. He had spent the better part of the last century on ice apparently, and feeling cold was one of the first things he had remembered after waking up.

It took close to a quarter of an hour for Steve to reach the Dolan's store from the deli. As he came in front of the windows, he looked inside to see if he could spot Liz on his way to the front door. She was standing behind the glass counter top where she would usually check out customers for their purchases. Her posture was abnormally rigid, her arms were crossed, and she was glaring at the man across the counter from her with a look that could kill. In comparison, the black haired man seemed far too relaxed as he leaned on top of the counter with his weight rested on his forearms, hands crossed. Steve thought he knew the face.

Steve wasted no time proceeding toward the front door. As one hand was holding a tray with two coffee cups and the other a small bag with the donut, Steve used the side of his body to push open the door. It chimed at the same time he heard Liz saying, "And there is a reason for that, Jason," with a commanding tone that Steve had not heard from her before. The conversation seemed to abruptly halt as both Liz and the man identified as Jason turned to look to see who had entered the store.

Steve immediately recognized him from the photograph that had presented itself on Liz's smartphone two weeks ago when Steve had taught the Schaefer twins, Billy and Emma, some defensive maneuvers. He remembered how easy it was to tell how visibly upset Liz had become at that moment without even being able to see her face. Steve guessed that was because he was struggling with something similar; the difference being that this Jason seemed to have intentionally inflicted some damage somehow. Steve gripped the donut bag tighter in his fist.

"Coffee, as promised," Steve smiled at Liz, holding up the cup tray as proof as he walked over to the through-space between the countertop and the door to the back room in the corner where Liz was speaking with Jason. Liz's shoulders visibly relaxed as Steve approached.

"Thanks," Liz half smiled at him as she brushed an auburn strand of hair that had fallen out of place back behind her ear. Her eyes, however did not look happy in the slightest. She reached for one of the cups that Steve had offered her.

"You're welcome," Steve grinned back at her before turning to look at Jason, "Is everything okay here?" He asked Liz before he could stop himself. Jason had a smug look on his face. It reminded Steve of the way Bucky used to look at dames; the difference being that the girls Bucky was looking at seemed to like it. Liz apparently did not.

"It's fine," Liz answered quickly, her voice tense.

"You're not going to introduce me to your friend, Lizzie?" Jason interjected, taking things upon himself. He held out a hand to Steve in greeting, "I'm Jason."

Jason was cocky, and it glinted in his dark eyes as he smirked; an alpha male type. He kind of reminded Steve of Tony Stark in that aspect. Steve did not like it. Nevertheless, Steve found his manners and took part in the handshake, trying very hard to keep his augmented strength under control, "Steve," he answered curtly as an introduction.

"Steve, I think Pops had something in the back he wanted to show you," Liz started. Steve only looked away from Jason when she continued, "Could you… Could you give us a moment?"

She was genuinely asking him, Steve could tell. Steve gave a half smile as he placed the donut bag on the tray with the remaining cup of coffee, "Of course," he looked back at Jason one more time before pulling open the door to the back room reluctantly. It swung closed behind him. Steve paused for a moment contemplating whether or not to stay and eavesdrop but decided against it out of respect for Liz's wish for privacy, believing that she would do the same for him. He continued through the maze of shelving in the back room to where he could hear Pops shuffling around in an area that had been set up as a workshop. John "Pops" Dolan was sitting at the work bench with what Steve recognized as a record player, similar to ones he had been familiar with back in the forties.

"Hungry, Pops?" Steve asked by way of a greeting, handing the donut bag towards the old man. Steve wondered which of them was actually the oldest in the room.

"Thank you, my boy! If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to buy your way into my good graces," Pops joked, accepting the paper bag eagerly.

Steve could not help but smile. He played along, "Is it working?"

"Yes," Pops bit into the donut, "Though I do suspect you're just trying to spoil my appetite so that I forget to invite you for dinner. Lizzie cooks a delightful gnocchi bolognese."

Steve was not exactly sure what gnocchi bolognese was (something Italian by the sound of it), but moved past it, "I just don't want to impose on the two of you more than I already have," Steve answered honestly, smiling slightly.

"One of these days I'm not going to take no for answer!" Pops persisted with zeal.

A chuckle escaped from Steve at Pops' enthusiasm, "You let me know when that is. So what have we got here?" Steve questioned referring to the record player on the work table. The turntable had been separated from the box and set to the side so that the inner mechanics were exposed.

"Table top record player from the early fifties, it looks like. Wiring has gone bad. I'll have to have Liz do some rewiring and soldering. My hands aren't as steady as they used to be," Pops explained, "Is she still putzing with that damned contraption at the counter?"

Steve was familiar with the item to which Pops was referring, "The computer?" Steve shook his head no, "She was speaking with—" Steve cut himself off, not sure if he should say.

Pops turned to him curiously, "Speaking with who?"

Steve paused for a moment before answering, "She was speaking with Jason." It came out harsher sounding than he had meant it to be.

Pops leaned back in his chair and looked toward the door that led to the storefront, eyes squinting as he said, "So you've met the elephant she's been trying to hide in the closet then."

"Sir?" Steve was not sure what the old man meant.

Pops turned back to Steve, "It's really not my place to be telling the details. Lizzie tries to bottle it up, but that one did a number on her when he vacated the premises. But I knew he'd turn up sooner or later. She's been on edge every time she's looked at that damned phone screen for over a week now, just like she was after he'd left." There was a certain amount of contempt evident in Pops' tone.

"She has seemed tense on occasion," Steve offered. He had noticed this a few times since the night of the incident with the twins as well. Steve had questioned Liz about it once or twice while watching a movie together or hanging around the shop, but it seemed like the two of them were very alike when it came to opening up about subjects that troubled them. All things considered, Liz seemed to be holding it together about this Jason fellow better than Steve was holding it together when he thought about Peggy. Their last words to each other haunted him everyday. The promises he made that were broken before he spoke them; the slightest tremble in Peggy's voice as she set a date she knew that he would never make... Steve took a long sip from his coffee in an effort to dissolve the lump in his throat and suppress the memory.

"Would you mind helping an old man clean this beauty up?" Pops began as he turned back to record player on his workbench, "Apart from the innards, she's in good condition. Just needs a bit o' elbow grease."

"Of course," Steve replied setting down his coffee cup. He reached for a spare rag on the work bench and began polishing the wooden top of the player.

Steve stayed in the shop the rest of the afternoon, helping out with things here and there. Liz was unusually quiet. Her mind seemed to be somewhere else entirely as Steve watched her catalog items into the computer at the glass counter top. Steve had returned to the storefront earlier that afternoon with a box that Pops had asked him to bring out to find Jason had left and Liz vigorously polishing an already spotless wooden wardrobe at the far end of the shop with an annoyed expression. He assumed that she was still stressing about the encounter now.

"When's the last time you took a break today?" Steve asked, pulling up a stool and sitting down on the opposite side of the counter. He knew Liz well enough by now to know that she worked too hard even when she was not trying to bottle something up. Though Steve could not blame her for trying to keep busy in order to keep her mind off things. He was guilty of the same thing himself. He was doing it right now.

Liz looked up suddenly, as if startled by the sudden sound, "Um, I don't know… When did you get here with coffee?" She kept her eyes on the computer screen.

"You're working too hard," Steve was all for putting in a good day's work, but Liz had a tendency to overdo it.

"Someone's got to keep up with this place." This seemed to be Liz's typical response whenever someone would bring up this particular topic.

"You should take a break," Steve persisted. It was the most he had gotten her to talk all afternoon.

"You're starting to sound like Pops," Liz teased and looked at him finally, "We're closed Monday for the holiday. I'll take a break then."

"The holiday?" Steve questioned, "You're closed Mondays anyway."

"Yes, but it's Memorial Day," Liz explained.

"Oh, right…" Steve looked away from her. Steve did not know much about the twenty-first century version of this holiday. Judging by what he had seen on television, it had turned into something to do with celebrating the beginning of summer.

Liz read his face easily, "No plans, I'm guessing?"

Steve shook his head.

"Pops and I have a few things planned," Liz started, "Almost every year we go out to Arlington early for their memorial service, and then spend some of the afternoon in Monument Park, followed by a barbeque on the roof. Kind of a Dolan Family tradition," Liz trailed off the end of her sentence a bit rushed, "You're welcome to join us if you want…"

Steve looked at her for a brief moment as he considered the invitation. She was smiling for the first time all afternoon, and he did not want to be the one to make her stop.

"I'd be honored," Steve replied, returning the smile. He watched Liz's smile reach her emerald eyes.

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **Surprise! It's from Steve's point of view, and Chapter 7 will be as well! I felt that it was important to show what Steve is going through at this point in time, and what better way to do that than through his eyes? Let me know whether or not you agree :-)**

 **Special thanks as always to my beta reader** **OfficialAidenRose** **over on Wattpad for being fantastic!**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7: Steve II

*** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **I would like to take a moment to apologize for the extremely long wait for this chapter! My beta reader and I have both been very busy with real life over the holiday season, but also I wanted to be sure that we took the extra time to make this chapter just right. A lot of time and research (yes, research!) went into writing this, and I feel that this is a very important part of the story. I hope that you all find that the wait was worth it!**

 **As always, I would like to thank** **OfficialAidenRose** **over on Wattpad for all of their help, especially with this chapter. I am giving them co-author credit for this update since they helped outline and write some scenes within it :-)**

* * *

Chapter 7: Steve II

Steve was surprised at how alive the city of Washington, D.C. became in the days leading up to the nationally observed holiday of Memorial Day Monday. Tourists had flooded the area, and Dolan & Sons Antiques had been quite full throughout the weekend as a result. Liz had even kept the store open an extra hour late that Sunday night. Steve thought she looked tired as he walked with her up the stairs to the third floor that their apartments shared.

"Did you still want to come with Pops and I tomorrow?" Liz asked him as they turned a landing.

Steve smiled at her as they climbed, "I'd like that." He had actually been looking forward to joining Liz and Pops in their traditions since Liz first invited him earlier that week.

"Okay," Liz glanced at him with a tired smile and brushed a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, "I hope you don't mind getting up early. Pops wanted to be sure that we've caught the Metro by nine."  
"I have no problem with that." Steve did not mind this at all. He slept on average about six hours a night at most and was an early riser as a result. Most mornings he was awake and going out for a run before seven.

As they reached the top floor, Liz paused at her door and turned to him, "I don't mean to be lame," she started, "but I think I'm gonna turn in early before I pass out on my feet. Can we hold off on the movie?"

Liz had suggested earlier that day that they watch _Superman_ ("the good ones, with Christopher Reeve!" Liz had felt the need to clarify) as tonight's choice for what had become their twice weekly movie night. Steve was excited about this, mostly because he actually had a clue as to who Superman was. He remembered reading the first comics featuring the fictional hero way back when he was still a scrawny kid in art school, before the war. To be honest, Steve was surprised that Superman was still around, and evidently quite popular.

"You get some sleep, " Steve encouraged, offering a small half-smile. Liz did look like she was on the brink of collapse.

"Okay. 'Night, Steve. See you in the morning," Liz said tiredly as she unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside.

"Good night, Liz," Steve gave one last smile as he watched Liz close her door.

The following morning, Steve woke promptly at six o'clock on the dot of his own accord. He had not found the need to use an alarm since his circadian rhythm seemed to be something by which the rest of the world should set their clocks. He went for his typical morning run several times around Monument Park, after which he grabbed a quick breakfast from the local deli before returning to his apartment to shower and get ready for the day out with the Dolans.

Pops had explicitly informed Steve the day before to dress his best for the occasion. Steve found that his best clothing in his closet included a plaid shirt in a neutral tone, with brown slacks. He slipped on brown leather shoes and tucked in his shirt before fastening a matching brown leather belt around his waist. Steve parted and combed his hair neatly. He contemplated bringing his brown leather jacket, but decided against it due to the seasonably warm weather that had flooded the city. Steve doubled back for his aviator sunglasses before leaving his apartment promptly at eight-thirty.

As Steve was locking the door to his apartment, he heard rustling and possibly mild cursing coming from the other side of Liz's door. He turned around just as Liz was exiting her apartment, hopping on one foot as she wrestled a shoe onto the other. Steve could not help but smile.

"Good morning," Steve greeted.

Liz jumped, as if she did not expect anyone else to be in the hallway. She turned around from closing and locking her door to face Steve and smiled, "G'morning."

The Liz that now faced Steve was a Liz that he had never seen before. For one thing, she had on a small amount of makeup outlining her emerald eyes and her lips had been painted a shade of red that reminded Steve of cherries. Her auburn hair had been left down and fell evenly about her shoulders, which were covered with capped sleeves that were attached to an American blue, a-line dress with a v-neckline. The dress had small white polka dots scattered evenly across it and the skirt flared out slightly from Liz's waist down to the hem which ended just above her knee; a familiar style that Steve remembered some women wearing in his time. Liz had traded in her black cross-body messenger bag for a small red purse that she clutched delicately with both hands in front of her. The shoes with which Liz had been struggling had a moderate heel and closed toes and were a shiny crimson color that matched the handbag.

"You look…" Steve began before he could stop himself, then suddenly panicked as he felt blood rushing to his face as he searched for the right word, _Beautiful? No— Gorgeous? No—_ He felt his heart begin to beat faster.

"Patriotic?" Liz offered, looking down at her coordinated American flag colored attire with a nervous smile as she brushed her hair behind one ear.

"Lovely," Steve smiled.

"Thanks," Liz looked at him and Steve relaxed to see that she approved of his choice of word. Her cheeks looked pinker than usual. Steve was not sure if that was rouge or if she was blushing, though he decided that he liked it either way.

"You clean up pretty well yourself," Liz added, "Ready to go?"

Steve nodded and they made their way down the stairwell to meet Pops.

Steve followed Liz as she let herself into Pops' apartment on the ground floor, where she found him in the kitchen.

"'Morning, Pops," Steve watched Liz kiss her grandfather on the cheek as he stood in the entryway by the front door.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Pops beamed at her, "You look absolutely beautiful! Doesn't she, Steve?"

Steve thought that he caught Liz rolling her eyes at Pops. Steve felt blood rushing to his face as a nervous smile took over, "Yes, sir. Lovely," was all he managed to get out in response.

After Pops had attempted to force feed everyone a quick breakfast, the three of them were on their way. The Metro grew crowded as they went further south down the Red Line towards central Washington, D.C. and even more so after they transferred to the Blue Line at Metro Center on their way west to Arlington. Arlington National Cemetery had its own stop but there was still a ways to walk from the station to the main entrance.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day. It was sunny, with a few white and fluffy clouds scattered across the blue sky. A light breeze persisted, which helped to abate the increasing temperature of the morning. There were many other people heading in their same direction.

As they approached the main entrance to the grounds, they were greeted by children handing out roses. It took Steve a moment to realize that they were groups of boy and girl scouts. A boy who must have been about the same age as the Schaefer twins that lived in their apartment building ran up to Liz holding out a red rose.

"Would you like to leave a flower, Miss?" The boy scout smiled excitedly.

Steve watched Liz's red lips turn into a smile before she responded, "I would love to. Thank you!" Liz accepted the rose as the boy's cheeks reddened. He ran back to his troop when the red started to reach his ears.

"That one is going to be trouble with the ladies when he gets older!" Pops quipped as the followed the river of people flowing toward shuttle busses.

"Where are we going?" Steve asked Liz while they waited for the next available shuttle. Pops was in pleasant conversation in front of them with someone he seemed to know.

"There's an amphitheater on the far side of the cemetery where the ceremony is gonna be," Liz explained, her green eyes squinting slightly in the sun, "President Ellis will say a few words."

"The President? Really?" Steve was surprised. He had not realized that this event would be that important.

"Yep. He speaks here every year," Liz said as the next shuttle pulled up to them.

They boarded the shuttle. Pops and his friend claimed the front row behind the driver and continued chatting boisterously. Steve followed Liz to the middle of the bus where she found an empty window seat. Steve squeezed in next to her with a bit of effort, his broad shoulders bumping into Liz as he settled. "Sorry," he apologized quickly, trying to give Liz a bit more room in the narrow row.

"No big deal," Liz looked like she was holding in a snarky comment with a slight smirk playing at her lips. Steve found a comfortable position that gave his knees some distance from the seat in front of him with one leg residing in the aisle to his side. Liz's small shoulder rested against Steve's bicep as the shuttle began to move forward. The seats were narrow, leaving hardly any room for personal space, though Liz did not seem to mind. She smiled at Steve as they rode for a few moments in comfortable silence enjoying the breeze from the open windows as he looked out of them. Green hills adorned with shining white headstones rolled by in every direction. Liz pointed out prominent memorials that Steve had never heard of as they went passed, but he was used to that sort of thing by now.

Steve, Liz, and Pops made their way through a security checkpoint after they had exited the bus, after which Pops ran off with a small group of fellow veterans around his age (or "the usual suspects and troublemakers!" as Liz had introduced them to Steve).

"We've still got time before the ceremony starts. Would you like to see the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier?" Liz asked Steve as she turned to him.

"I would love to, but to be honest I'm not entirely sure what it is," Steve admitted. Another thing that he had grown used to lately was confessing his ignorance. He was grateful and glad that Liz always seemed happy to enlighten him. Steve followed her through the throng of people milling around the outside of the gleaming white marble amphitheater, many of which were military service members in their dress uniforms.

Liz explained as they walked, "Well, it's really the resting place of multiple unknown soldiers. One from each of the country's worst wars to honor them all: both world wars, Korea, and Vietnam," Steve watched Liz's eyes squint in the sunlight that made her auburn hair look almost ginger and her skin glow a shade of alabaster, "Not a lot of people realize that because of the one large tomb," Liz added.

They rounded to the rear side of the amphitheater where they found a stone pavilion where there stood a tomb so large that Steve could easily tell it was a few feet taller than him. There were many people looking on from behind a cordon at a lone, pristinely decorated soldier patrolling back and forth between them and the monolith on a long black mat. The tomb itself stood at the edge of a pavilion overlooking a grassy lawn with views of the city beyond. On the side of the tomb facing the rear stone steps of the amphitheater and the crowd, Steve could read the engraved words:

HERE RESTS IN

HONORED GLORY

AN AMERICAN

SOLDIER

KNOWN BUT TO GOD

All of a sudden, Steve felt a hand wrapping in his and looked down to see that Liz had taken it as they began squeezing through the thickening crowd towards what could have been considered center stage. Steve instinctively squeezed Liz's fingers tighter when he started to feel them pull away, but they were gone just as suddenly. He fought the urge to reach for them again.

"The bigger the crowd, the closer it is to the Changing of the Guard," Liz whispered to Steve. The sea of people around them were just as quiet, "They stand watch twenty-four hours a day, and train for months to earn that honor. Every move is deliberate and must be perfectly timed. You can set your clock by them."

Liz opened the small red handbag that she carried and took out her smartphone. Steve watched as she lit up the screen on the device in order to see the time, "The changing should begin any second."

As if on cue, Steve heard the sound of a timed march from his right. He watched with great respect as the ceremony commenced for precisely the next eight minutes (and not a second more or less). The entire ceremony was a majestic display of discipline requiring a strict knowledge of procedure as well as complete control of personal movement and coordination among all of the guards involved. Steve was impressed and quickly developed a deep admiration for the soldiers in front of him for their dedication. It reminded him of the soldier ideal that Steve had so desperately wanted to emulate when Doctor Erskine had found him; the soldier that Steve was so proud to have become. _The soldier that I used to be…_ Steve corrected his internal thoughts, _At so high a cost, was it worth it?_

He looked at Liz who was watching the display intently, the rose that she had been given at the entrance held close to her chest delicately. Steve thought about the smaller ways he had tried to help the people he had grown to care about in this modern age. Billy and Emma with bullies at school, Pops with the store and his restorations, and Liz with reminding her to take a break and eat once in awhile… They all had given him something more valuable than he could ever repay: the feeling of welcome and home and family he had not had since he was a young boy; the chance of a normal life he never knew he wanted until he thought it was too late; a hope that he could do the one thing he had been battling since he awoke— just carry on.

When the Changing of the Guard had completed, the crowd began to disperse as a new soldier began his patrol on the black mat in front of the tomb.

"Do they really stand guard twenty-four hours a day?" Steve asked Liz quietly as they remained watching, genuinely interested.

She nodded, "Ever since some time in the thirties, I think. I don't remember the exact date," Steve watched as a smile played at her ruby lips, like she was trying to fight it, "Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night…"

"I'm pretty sure that's the post office," Steve fought the urge to chuckle as his gaze lingered on the upturned corners of Liz's smile. He could tell that Liz was in one of her silly moods, where almost anything seemed funny. She covered her mouth with her hand as she stifled a giggle. Steve lost himself for a moment looking at her, _really_ looking at her and reflecting on their relationship. It was a rare thing for Steve to feel so at ease with someone. _Especially someone so beautiful..._ The rogue thought came over him as Liz's emerald eyes met his, _Maybe it could be worth it…_ Before he finished thinking it, a twinge of guilt settled in the pit of Steve's stomach. He closed his eyes briefly and saw an image of Peggy waiting for him alone at what he imagined as The Stork Club back in 1945 as he turned away from Liz.

"I think we should find Pops and grab a seat inside," Liz whispered trying to regain her composure, "before we get yelled at by the guard for being disrespectful. They've been known to do that." If Liz had noticed Steve's sudden tense moment she did not show it.

Close to an hour later after the memorial service within the amphitheater for all of the Nation's fallen soldiers had completed, Steve, Liz, and Pops exited another shuttle bus in a section of field close to the main entrance of the cemetery where they had entered that morning. Pops had informed Steve at the close of the service that he had wanted to make a brief visit to their family members that had been laid to rest there. It was a short walk from the shuttle stop to where the Dolan family headstone stood under partial shade from a large oak tree with high branches that stood nearby. The sun shown through them and lit the ground with patches of gold.

Steve stood back slightly, reading the epitaphs of the family stone as Pops and Liz quietly paid their respects. There were two rows of three epitaphs. On the first row in the center was what Steve assumed to be Pop's place denoting him as head of the family. The date of his passing intentionally left blank:

JOHN DOLAN

FIRST LIEUTENANT

UNITED STATES ARMY

MARCH 17, 1928 –

The space to the right was blank, but to the left there was an inscription for Liz's Gran, as Steve had heard Liz refer to her:

MY BELOVED WIFE

ROSE ENGEL DOLAN

JUNE 3, 1930 – AUGUST 19, 2011

 _Loving Mother & Grandmother_

On the second row, all three spaces had been inscribed. Steve paid special attention to these, as they told a story of the tragedies that the Dolan family had endured. The family seemed to have been plagued with untimely deaths, an unfortunate common experience Steve shared with Pops and Liz. From left to right, their epitaphs read as follows:

OUR SON

PATRICK DOLAN

OCTOBER 23, 1965 – DECEMBER 9, 1973

 _While he lives cherished in our_

 _memories, he is never far away._

Steve had heard Pops mention Patrick only once during an afternoon spent in the Dolan's shop. It was a comical story about how he and his older brother had jokingly locked their father in a wardrobe during a game of hide-and-seek. Pops had gone on to tell that Patrick had passed away at a young age after battling a muscle-deteriorating disease for almost a year, to which Steve had expressed his deepest sympathies. Pops had decided to change the name of the store from Dolan's Antiques to Dolan & Sons Antiques as a small way to honor Patrick at that time.

OUR SON

JOHN DOLAN, JR.

TECHNICAL SERGEANT

UNITED STATES AIR FORCE

APRIL 7, 1961 – FEBRUARY 25, 1991

GULF WAR

 _Beloved Father & Husband_

Steve knew this to be Liz's father from stories he had heard from Pops. Steve had heard Liz speak of him very seldomly. He knew that her father had died when she was very young and that she knew him mostly through the stories that had been told to her by Pops and Gran. John had died serving his country shortly before he had planned to return home for good.

HIS BELOVED WIFE

PAMELA ROBINS DOLAN

SEPTEMBER 22, 1962 – JANUARY 4, 1987

 _Those we love remain with us_

 _for love itself lives on._

Liz's mother, Pamela, had passed away shortly after childbirth. She herself had no living family when she had married John, but the Dolan's had taken her in as their own. Pops and Gran had not gotten to know Pamela as well as they wished that they could have before she passed away due to complications during labor. Pops claimed it was a miracle that Liz survived the ordeal. As a result, there was very little that Liz's grandparents had been able to tell her about the mother that she never knew.

Steve could empathize with the Dolan's better than many. His own father, Joseph, had died during World War I before Steve had been born. His mother, Sarah, had passed away when he was a teenager and he had never felt more alone than in the weeks after her funeral. Bucky had become his family then and was like a brother. Steve was as close to him as any of Bucky's biological siblings, if not closer.

Steve watched as Liz gently laid the rose that she still carried on the top of the stone.

"A rose for my Rose and my beloved family," Pops mused, a sad smile on his face. Liz looked over to him with a similar expression. Silently, she placed a kiss on the tips of her fingers and touched them to where her father's name was engraved upon the stone.

Pops and Liz then turned back to Steve and started walking out of the clearing. Pops was already ahead of them, as he usually was, when Liz's heel sank into a soft patch of ground. Steve was close enough to catch her hand before she could stumble too far.

"This is why I never wear heels," Steve heard Liz grumble under her breath. Liz forcefully moved her leg in the hopes of reclaiming her heel from the soft earth, but to no avail. The movement only caused her to rip her foot from the crimson shoe and nearly sent her toppling over. Once again, Steve saved her from herself.

"These stupid shoes," Liz began to curse as she leaned down and tried to tear the now stained shoe from its trap among the dirt, "— never wearing these again —"

"Liz," Steve tried with no success.

"Lizzie," he said again with no response other than muttered cursing and a seemingly misplaced sniffle for the beautiful weather.

"Elizabeth," Steve tried in a more demanding manner. Finally catching her attention, he set his hand on her upper arm, "Are you okay?"

Liz opened her mouth, obviously ready to make a sharp rebuttal at the use of her full name, before turning away. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and she cast her eyes out toward the horizon. Her green eyes held the sun's glare as they became increasingly pink in hue. Steve looked at Liz only to see her lip gently quivering, wondering how long she had been holding in her emotions. Steve bent down to the forgotten shoe still resting in the dirt. Kneeling, he picked it up and gently slipped it around her toes, then over her heel. Seeing that Liz was quickly trying to wipe away a falling tear from her cheek, Steve rose from the manicured lawn. He reached for Liz's petite hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, and began to lead her toward the front entrance.

Steve clung to Liz's hand in a way that was more than just physical touch. The raw pain that Liz had just displayed— Steve knew that feeling. He gripped her hand to keep his own composure. He held her hand in his to anchor them both. Steve felt needed to a degree in which he fundamentally craved. He felt like a hero— and he wanted to feel the way he felt in that moment for the rest of his life.

In the midst of his rumination, Liz tugged him to a stop. Steve turned to look at her as she rasped, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so— I'm usually better at— at handling things, on my own… I'm just—"

Steve silently swallowed Liz's petite frame in his arms. The first comforting words that came to mind were the ones that he had heard from Bucky after Steve's mother's funeral, "The thing is, you don't have to…" he said softly, "And there's nothing to apologize for."

Steve nestled into Liz's auburn hair. Its faint aroma of apples speaking to his senses. Liz backed out of his embrace but was still close enough for Steve to have the courage to reach for her hand yet again. He looked her in the eyes and nodded a silent affirmation of comfort. Liz smiled, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. Steve gave a soft smile in return.

The moment was interrupted by Pops calling in the distance, his lead gaining, "Catch up, lovebirds!" To which Steve felt heat build in his face as he turned to look at Pops down the roadway.

Liz looked shocked at Pop's comment. She started hurrying toward him as she called back, "Slow down, Pops!"

"What's the matter, Sunshine? Can't keep up with an old man and his walking stick?" Pops teased, brandishing his cane in the air. Steve tried not to laugh next to Liz.

"It's these shoes!" Liz grumbled.

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **I really hope that you enjoyed this chapter! This and the next chapter are very pivotal for character development. After that, the real fun begins ;-)**

 **Reviews are always appreciated. I love hearing your feedback! It lets me know that I'm doing something right.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8: Steve III

Chapter 8: Steve III

Monument Park was crowded that afternoon. Steve, Liz, and Pops had entered the park on the east side after walking a few blocks south from the nearest metro station. This area in particular was teeming with "bikers" (men and woman with a certain affinity for leather and denim clothing who enjoyed riding motorcycles, Steve found) that were representative of the Vietnam War veterans.

"Your father used to ride with them in the Rolling Thunder motorcade every year when he was home, to honor the 'Nam vets, POWs, and MIAs. I think they had it yesterday," Pops said to Liz as they ambled passed the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. There was a line of people stretching as far as the eye could see down the path waiting to pass through the memorial and pay their respects. A grass field on the other side of the path held a sea of motorcycles parked in neat rows.

"I remember," Liz began to smile next to Steve, "Dad took me along in his sidecar once. It was so loud. I loved it."

"I wish I'd known about it," Steve said, eyeing a classic black Harley Davidson with a blue flame paint detail, "I would have brought mine down." Steve had been doing more walking than riding lately. He found that he could often get to and from where he wanted to go more quickly by walking or through public transportation than idling in the often crowded city streets with his motorcycle.

"You have a bike? Why have I not seen it?" Liz asked Steve, sounding both a bit shocked and excited. Her eyes seemed to twinkle.

"It's been garaged behind our building. The city traffic is terrible," Steve replied.

"We'll need to do something about that," Liz smirked.

They came upon the Lincoln Memorial standing prominently in front of them. Off to the west, Steve could see S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Triskelion towering on an island in the Potomac River. Steve was familiar with the building due to his weekly sessions with Doctor Garner taking place there.

"I remember when they finished that building," Pops said as they turned east towards the reflecting pool, "I can neither confirm nor deny having been inside." Steve had trouble determining whether or not Pops was joking. You needed a certain level of clearance just to get within a stone's throw of the entrance to the bridge that connected the island to the mainland.

The sun beat down on the calm water of the reflecting pool, shining brightly. As they walked along, Liz became quite interested in a family of ducks gliding across the surface. The tiny ducklings swam haphazardly around their parents who were trying to keep them in line. When they reached the far side of the pool, Steve smiled as he watched Liz laugh at the ducklings exiting the water and shaking their tail feathers as they waddled along into the grass.

"The World War II Memorial doesn't look that crowded. Have you seen it yet?" Liz asked Steve as they approached the stone enclosure.

Steve came down to this area to run almost everyday on the circling pathways throughout the park, but he had made a point to avoid this particular monument. He was not sure if he was prepared for what he might find inside. Steve had lost count of how many times he had circumvented these walkways in favor of outer routes.

"No, I haven't," was all Steve could bring himself to say.

"Well, today's your day. It's one of my favorites," Liz smiled and hurried to catch up to Pops towards the north-west entrance of the stone oval. Steve followed her trying to hide a worrisome expression.

Steve caught up to Liz at the entrance, who seemed eager to give him a tour, "The outer wall of the memorial is made up of pillars inscribed with the names of the states and territories active during the war," she explained as they walked past. They then entered a grey stone plaza containing a large fountain, "We came in backwards," Liz explained as she guided Steve over to the long western wall opposite the fountain, "But this is my favorite part. It's called the Freedom Wall."

Steve found himself in front of a smaller, still and clear pool of water. Behind the pool was a wall filled with gold stars so wide that Steve actually needed to turn his head to be able to see each end of it in the distance as they moved to the middle.

"There are four thousand and forty-eight stars, each one representing one hundred Americans who lost their lives during the war," Liz led Steve to the center where he could easily read a long, angled stone wall at his feet in front of the pool inscribed with the words:

HERE WE MARK THE PRICE OF FREEDOM

"But in the middle, there is one more star that's different than the others," Liz pointed with her finger along her eye-line to an out of place circle amidst the sea of stars in the center of the wall. Steve focused in on it and saw that the circle did in fact have a star on it. He realized then that it was not just a star on a circle. It was a star on a shield. _My shield..._

"Do you see it?" Liz asked excitedly.

"I see it." Steve's voice was barely above a whisper. This was exactly what he had gone through great lengths to avoid: his own memorial, the next worst thing to an actual tombstone with his name on it. Steve glanced down to find a small bronze plaque near his feet with the same symbol of the shield at the top. His body began to tense involuntarily.

"It's Cap's shield," Liz sounded excited to point out the shield to Steve, her voice lifting in adulation for the man who had carried it. Out of the corner of his eye Steve could see that Liz was looking at him with a smile.

Steve, however, was concentrating on the tiny embossed words above his shoes. There were several paragraphs describing Captain America's role in the war. As he read he came upon a mention of the loss of his best friend, Bucky Barnes. Steve's memories of that terrible day flooded into his mind. He still blamed himself for Bucky's death. _If I hadn't been so reckless..._ Steve cut off his thought process as he felt a lump begin to grow in his throat and any hope of maintaining his composure vanished like the wind being knocked out of his lungs. As a result, he deepened his breathing noticeably.

"Steve?" Liz asked gently.

Steve did not look at her, instead prying his eyes from the plaque and focusing them back on the small shield on the wall in front of him as he took another deep breath. Steve felt a hand slide into his tentatively and knew that it belonged to Liz. The lump in his throat began to subside and his breathing steadied after a few more breaths. At that moment a voice was heard from his opposite side.

"Might I have a few moments with the lad, Sunshine?" Steve looked to see Pops standing next to him. Liz seemed to hesitate before she responded.

"Sure, Pops," she said after a moment. Steve felt Liz squeeze his hand gently before letting it go and reluctantly walking away. He felt the breeze cool his own palm. Missing the warmth that had just been there, Steve placed both hands in his pockets as he trained his eyes back on the small golden shield across the pool among the thousands of stars.

A few moments passed before Pops spoke again, "Did I ever tell you how close I was to fighting in this war?" It seemed to be a rhetorical question meant to preface Pops' story, so Steve did not respond. "I was a month shy of eighteen and for the better part of the year prior I had been trying to convince my parents to let me enlist early to no avail, as I needed their written permission. My father had already gone and come home missing a leg, you see. But by God, on my eighteenth birthday I was going to march right down to the Induction Center and register my name whether they liked it or not. But before I could do it the Third Reich fell. I suppose I should thank you for that, Captain Rogers."

Steve snapped his eyes to Pops. He stared for a moment before responding softly, "You know?"

Pops smirked back, an expression that seemed to run in the Dolan family, "Yes, I know. Agent Hill disclosed that information when we were discussing your accommodations."

There were a dozen questions running through Steve's mind, "You're S.H.I.E.L.D., then?" He should have known better than to think that Fury and Hill would have entrusted him to anyone but one of their own.

"Officially, I'm retired. But off the record, yes. Part of the very first generation of agents. They recruited me out of the army a few years after I did enlist. I was originally tasked with data analysis of potential threats and proposing diffusement strategies. Eventually that evolved into managing a team of field agents," Pops spoke softly, but Steve sensed the pride that Pops had for his work as an agent.

"Does Liz know?" Steve asked timidly.

"That I'm an ex-secret agent, as it were? Mostly. That there's more to you than you've let on? I haven't told her. But what's there to tell? It seems to me that you're turning over a new leaf, or trying to in any event," Pops said nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry... I— I have no idea what I'm doing," Steve admitted, feeling even more guilty for his lies of omission; foolish even. Pops had been playing along the whole time for Steve's benefit. Though on some level he felt relieved.

"Not many young people do," Pops offered supportively.

A soft laugh escaped Steve's lungs, "You realize I'm older than you?"

"A technicality I'm choosing to overlook," Pops chortled.

Steve's gaze ventured back down to the bronze plaque at his feet, continuing to read about Captain America paying the greatest price by sacrificing himself to save countless lives.

"It should go without saying," Pops began after a moment, "But had it not been for you and your team this wall would have been much, much longer; and we might very well be flying the Nazi flag; or worse, flying Hydra flags. I can see that you're struggling with many things — and who can blame you — but you should be proud of who you are and what you have accomplished.

"Your actions during the war touched the lives of more people than you realize. Me and my family included. The adventures of Captain America were bedtime stories that I told my children. And Liz's father passed those stories on to her. She idolized that persona growing up, after her father passed away. You were her hero when she had none."

Steve looked up at the small golden representation of his shield on the Freedom Wall once more, "Is that really who I am, though? A hero?" He voiced the question with which he had been struggling for the better part of the past year, "Or is that what I was engineered to be? The side effect of a lab experiment?"

Pops responded almost immediately, "Certainly it's better than a mere pretty poster boy," he began jokingly. Steve knew he was referring to the time Steve had spent in the USO and allowed himself a smile. Pops continued, "But, the way that Carter told it, you had the heart of a hero long before the serum was even a viable idea. The serum just gave you the ability to act on it with the hope of success."

"You knew Peggy?" Steve asked as he thought back to the day that Liz had fixed his washing machine. They had ended up in her apartment after the onset of Liz's asthma attack where Steve had found the drawing she had made of Captain America. Liz had told Steve a similar story that she had heard about himself, a story that had obviously meant something to her judging by the look of admiration that had been in her eyes. Perhaps it was true.

"I thought you knew," Pops turned to Steve, "Carter is the reason that S.H.I.E.L.D. exists; she helped found it. I reported to her directly during my tenure as an agent."

Steve had not been privileged to that information. Though admittedly, if he had finished reading the dossiers that Doctor Garner had provided him earlier that week, Steve probably would have found it in Peggy's file. He closed his eyes for a moment trying suppress the the guilt he felt over how he had willingly left her and his friends behind, though Steve found solace in the fact that Peggy went on to live her life and continued making a difference. Steve felt a hand on his shoulder, bringing him out of his ruminations.

"Steve, if I have learned anything about you in the time you've been staying with us, it's that you have a heart of gold. If there's anyone who deserves a second chance, it's you, and it's yours to do with what you will. Just don't waste it dwelling on what you cannot change." Pops patted Steve on the shoulder before turning away from the wall. "Let's find Lizzie. I think it's time we get back. My stomach tells me that it's about time to light up the barbecue."

Steve smiled again and followed Pops through the plaza in search of Liz. They found her outside the front entrance to the memorial on the east side speaking to a vendor offering a variety of American Flag motif items for sale from a small mobile cart. As they approached her, Liz turned to them wearing wayfarer style sunglasses with a striped and star-spangled pattern splashed across the frames, smiling brightly.

"This sun is killing me and I needed shades. What do you think?" She asked to the both of them.

"They're very..." Steve thought for a moment smiling at her enthusiasm, "Patriotic."

"I was going to say ridiculous," Pops quipped stifling a laugh, ambling ahead.

"For five bucks, I'll deal with a little ridiculous!" She called after him, following. Steve met her stride as they walked together, losing ground on Pops in front of them. He took a moment to don his own aviator sunglasses. After a moment Liz broke their silence, "I'm sorry about before," she began cautiously, "I thought you'd like seeing—"

"It's not your fault," Steve cut her off, "I'm the one who should apologize."

Steve watched as Liz shook her head, auburn hair shimmering from light to dark and back to light in the sun, "Don't worry about it," she smiled at him. Steve imagined her green eyes glinting beneath the dark lenses of the sunglasses she now wore. He smiled back, then looked down the pathway in search of Pops.

"How is he always that far ahead of us?" Steve questioned with a laugh, a bit amazed.

"I'm wearing heels. What's your excuse?" Liz jabbed playfully. In that moment Steve saw her wobble as the sole of her shoe slid over a stray pebble. "Oh, for God's sake!" Liz exclaimed as Steve caught her hand.

"Apparently keeping you from falling face first into the pavement," Steve laughed.

"You're such a snarky punk!" Liz was laughing in spite of herself as well.

"You're welcome," Steve smiled, keeping Liz's hand steadily in his a they tried to catch up with her grandfather.

Upon returning home, Pops had granted Liz permission to change into more casual, less accident prone clothing and shoes before they started dinner. Steve took the opportunity to freshen up himself. The afternoon sun combined with traveling via crowded public transportation left him feeling in need of a clean shirt. Steve had already changed his white undershirt, and as he was was pulling a new button-down at of his sparsely stocked closet his eyes wandered to the floor. He looked at the round metal disc that he had hidden there days ago.

Steve returned the shirt back to the hanger bar and bent to pick up the shield by its worn, brown leather straps. The weight of it was all too familiar as he turned the shield over in his hands so that the scarred star and stripes now faced him. He looked at it, contemplating. Steve thought back to Pops' words from earlier and all that he had experienced that day. As his eyes shifted across the vibranium, Steve's mind drifted to one of the last conversations he had had with Bucky before Steve had been chosen for Doctor Erskine's super soldier program: the night of the Stark Expo of 1943. The two of them had gotten into a heated debate over whether or not it was wise for Steve, just a scrawny and sickly kid from Brooklyn then, to get mixed up in a war.

 _What had I said then, Buck?_ Steve thought to himself, remembering, " _...There are men laying down their lives! I got no right to do any less than them. That's what you don't understand. This isn't about me._ " _You still thought I was trying to prove something. And you might've been right about that,_ Steve mused, _Well, look at me. I really got nothing to prove now..._ Steve slid the shield on his arm and turned to look at himself in the mirror mounted to the wall above his dresser on the adjacent wall. For the first time in a while, the image did not make him feel bitter.

"Hey, Steve!" He heard Liz calling from the front of the apartment. He had left the door open while he waited for her. Steve scrambled to tuck the shield back in his closet and pull out that clean shirt.

"We're bringing up food, if you're hungry!" Liz added, it did not sound like she had entered the apartment, instead calling from the threshold of the front door. Steve quickly buttoned up his shirt, tucked it in, and walked out of his bedroom closing the door behind him. He grabbed his brown leather jacket from the closet in the living room in preparation of the seasonably cool evenings they had been having lately as he chased Liz up the stairs to the roof.

During their rooftop dinner Steve quickly found that Pops was a Master of the Grill, as he had proclaimed himself to be. He watched intently as Pops flipped hamburgers and hot dogs effortlessly as he instructed Steve on the ways of being a grill master. Liz, however, had been preoccupied with her smartphone through much the evening, becoming increasingly tense as time went on. Steve shared a knowing look with Pops. The two of them had confirmed in the past that Liz became this way when she was currently in contact with Jason. Steve had half a mind to take the device from her and throw it off the roof.

Steve helped the Dolans clean up after dinner, putting away a folding table and some chairs in a short rooftop storage shed and bringing down leftover food. Pops had retired to his apartment for the evening when Steve made a final trip to the rooftop to see if anything else needed to be done. He found Liz sitting on top of the storage unit facing the now setting sun, looking over the city-scape. She looked more familiar to Steve now, having changed into a black zip-up hoodie, jeans, and sneakers before dinner. She sat with her legs folded Indian-style, her forearms propping her hunched shoulders above her knees while Liz absentmindedly picked at her fingernails. The striped and star-spangled sunglasses that Liz had bought earlier that afternoon were perched on top of her hair that was now drawn back into it's usual bun.

"Anything else need to be brought in?" Steve asked as he approached her.

Liz looked at Steve and smiled, "No, we got everything. Thanks for the help."

"Of course," Steve replied. His leather jacket was taking up the seat next to Liz on the storage box, so he shifted it back as he sat next to her. Off in the distance, Steve could just make out the silhouette of the Washington Monument to the south against a yellow sunset. Next to him, he heard Liz's phone vibrate. Steve watched as she pulled it out of her pocket and frowned at the screen.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked before he could think twice about it. He already knew the answer.

Liz sighed and pocketed the phone once more, "It's been a long day..." she trailed off. Steve looked at her waiting for her to elaborate. Liz must have read his expression because she continued, "A bit of an emotional day, you know... And some people just aren't making it any easier."

"You mean Jason," Steve probed, looking back out to the sunset. A certain degree of animosity had leaked into his tone.

"Yeah," Liz said softly, "He knows that today can be tough. Says he just wants to check up on me, but I know he's just using it to try and worm his way back into my life." Liz's tone had grown colder as she spoke, causing Steve to glance back at her and watch her expression. The yellow-orange sunset reflected off Liz's green eyes adding fire to a determined gaze, "I don't trust people easily. I trusted him and he broke that trust. There's no coming back from that. And the fact that he's using my Dad as, like, _bait._ It just—" Liz cut herself off and closed her eyes.

Steve watched as she took a deep breath and exhaled, holding the dog tags that hung around her neck gently in one hand. For a brief moment, Steve lost himself in the play of the golden light of the setting sun against the profile of Liz's lightly freckled facial features. In her relaxed attire, Steve found her no less pretty than in that fancy dress. He only wished that there was something more that he could do to remedy her frustration and pain. He hated seeing her upset. But Steve knew better than anyone that you can not take away someone else's pain no matter how much you wish you could.

"From what I've heard about him, it sounds like your father was a good man," Steve offered after a moment as consolation.

Liz opened her eyes and looked at him. A small smile grew on her lips, "I think you would've liked him. He could give Pops quite a run for his money."

Steve smiled back, "Sounds like you're a lot like him."

Liz looked back out over the back lit skyline, "I wanted to be just like him. I wanted more than anything to join the Air Force and be a pilot like he was."

Steve was surprised at this, "What stopped you?"

"You mean besides the fact that I'm too short, blind, and asthmatic? No, that pretty much sums it up," Liz laughed. "They wouldn't take me, so I decided I'd do the next best thing. If I couldn't fly, I'd design stuff that could."

Steve had heard mention from Pops about Liz's Aerospace Engineering degree from a prestigious university in the past. He sympathized with her, and could relate better than anyone to being rejected by the military's physical requirements. Steve remembered what it felt like to feel trapped in his feeble body, unable to do many things that everyone else seemed able to do with ease. He had tried so hard to convince himself otherwise, but deep down there was always a part of him that had wanted to prove himself as capable to others. Steve wondered what had seemed to staunch that need in Liz.

"What happened to change that, if you don't mind me asking?" Steve approached delicately. Liz thought for a moment, she seemed to be working out a response. A breeze kicked up and Steve watched her shiver. Immediately, he reached for the leather jacket that had been discarded behind him and wrapped it around Liz's shoulders.

"Thanks," Liz smiled, a pink hue appearing on her cheeks as she slipped her hands through the over-sized arm holes. Steve noticed her fingertips barely made it past the cuffs at the end of the sleeves. "To answer your question," she continued, "Family. Gran had gotten sick during my last year of school, and when she passed away I knew I didn't want to leave Pops here all alone. I was needed here, and I don't regret making that choice."

Steve reflected on that for a moment. He wondered if his mother had not passed away so soon, if he would have been so willing to enlist. "I think I would've done the same if I had been in your shoes," Steve admitted, "but there was no one for me to leave behind when I joined the Army. My mom passed away a few years before, and I never knew my father. He died in combat before I was born." Steve found it cathartic to share that with someone who had experienced something similar.

He felt Liz slide closer to him and place her hand on his forearm nearest to her. He looked at her and saw an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, Steve... Now I know what you meant — earlier, when you said I didn't have to go through things alone. I'm sure they would've been proud to have a son in the Army."

They sat in comfortable silence looking out at the now orange sky began to darken to red. In those moments Steve contemplated telling her the truth about himself, _I should tell her,_ he thought, _but I don't know how to do it without sounding insane, or worse: that I've been lying to her._ Steve thought back to his conversation that he had with Pops in front of the Freedom Wall. _What does it matter?_ An internal struggle began. Steve thought about the answer to his own question for a few moments. _Because whether or not I want it to be,_ Steve realized, _Captain America is part of who I am._

Steve turned to Liz suddenly, "I think I want to go back."

Liz looked up at him with a confused expression, "What?"

"I think I want to go back into the service," Steve explained. Liz looked at him for a moment. He watched as her green eyes shifted back and forth between focusing on each of his blue ones.

"That's a big decision, Steve," she began slowly. Steve detected the worry in her tone. Liz continued, "What makes you want to go through with that? It seems kind of sudden."

Steve thought for a moment. The entire day he had spent with Liz and Pops seemed to be leading to this point. All he had seen and learned of others' sacrifice and dedication; Steve could do more. It was in his power help as many people and prevent as many lives from being lost as possible. And in truth he would be honored to have that responsibility.

"I had an offer, before I came here," Steve began, thinking back to meetings he had had with Fury and Hill regarding a program they were calling S.T.R.I.K.E., "To be part of a specialized team that would help keep a lot of people safe... Keep other families from losing people like we have."

"That is a tempting idea, but it's also dangerous. You're not Superman, you know. Which we still need to watch by the way." It seemed like Liz was trying to force herself to smile.

"No, I'm not Superman," Steve agreed, hoping that the smile he gave her would bring out Liz's genuine one. His smile remained as Steve silently continued in his own mind:

 _I'm Captain America._

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Thank you all for being so patient with updates. Unfortunately my day job has been taking up most of my time and energy as of late, but even when I don't have the time to physically write things down I'm thinking about and planning outlines for future chapters!**

 **As always, I want to thank** **OfficialAidenRose** **over on Wattpad for being an amazing beta reader. They have been my kick in the pants to write and a great person to bounce ideas off of.**

 **Reviews and follows are always very much appreciated! I love to know what readers think :-)**


	9. Chapter 9: Liz VI

Chapter 9: Liz VI

Liz's dining table looked as though she thought that pencilled sketches on paper made for a proper table cloth. In one corner of the table to her left sat Liz's laptop. She was currently cycling through reference images and videos on the internet as she leaned away from the pad of paper directly in front of her. Billy and Emma Schaeffer's eleventh birthday was coming up soon, and Liz was designing a special gift for each of them that she planned to make herself from scratch. She had decided on replica gauntlets worn by each of their favorite heroes: Iron Man for Billy and Black Widow for Emma.

The sketches that currently covered the table contained drafts of designs and dimensions for particular parts as well as schematics for electronics; Liz had planned to include light-up components in the appropriate areas as well as a small speaker and onboard microchip with motion sensor for sound effects that she would program in later. Compared to some of her senior projects for the Aerospace Engineering program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, something like this was mere child's play. Liz scoured the internet for images and footage from the Battle of New York. There was an abundance of it available, but it was difficult finding all the necessary angles with enough detail to be sure of the accuracy of her sketches; but Liz was determined.

Actually, if truth be told, Liz welcomed the distraction. Steve had not wasted any time re-enlisting after he had first told Liz of the idea back on Memorial Day. Once he did, there was an immediate shift in what had become routine that left Liz with a number of conflicting emotions and too much time to spend thinking about them. Since Steve had started training locally for whatever specialized team he had not disclosed, Liz was lucky if she saw him once every couple of days. It was not so bad until Steve had started taking part in night training two weeks ago. What had formerly been their regular movie nights on Wednesdays and Sundays now seemed to be continually and indefinitely postponed by one of them due to scheduling.

Liz had not realized just how valuable Steve's help down in the shop had been until it was no longer regularly available. Pops was now aggressively trying to convince Liz that they should hire some teenager part time (mostly to help with stock management and heavy lifting) and Liz was determined to be able to go on fine without Steve around all the time just as she had been doing before he had moved into the building. But if Liz was going to be honest with herself, she missed Steve's company; although she really rather preferred to blame it on the withdrawals from the hot coffee that he used to bring her on a regular basis.

In contrast, her ex-boyfriend was trying every trick in the book to get Liz to agree to see him. Jason would send what seemed to be thoughtful text messages now almost everyday, most of which Liz would not acknowledge except for sporadic, one word responses. Occasionally, Jason would call and Liz would not answer. He would leave a voicemail briefly describing his day, say he missed her, and end with an open invitation to meet. Liz contemplated changing her number every now and again, but could not justify whether or not it was worth the trouble.

But there was another feeling that Liz tried to bury. A very small, satisfied part that actually liked the attention. _It kinda feels good knowing that I'm wanted…_ Liz thought to herself, _Even if I don't ever want to be with him again, I guess it's better than pining over someone that doesn't seem to want anything other than friendship…_

Liz had been foolish to think that a guy like Steve could possibly reciprocate any romantic feelings for her. She believed that they had become rather close over the past few months and, as much as Liz had tried to fight it, she had found herself developing something of a crush on him. After the time that they had spent together on Memorial Day laughing together, crying together ( _Okay, maybe I was the only one crying like an idiot,_ Liz thought), holding hands, being held by him… _It seemed that maybe he also could have_ — Liz did not allow herself to finish the train of thought. She sighed as she clicked through more images on the screen, none of them giving the angle, or even the heroes, that she needed. _I read too much into him just being a nice guy,_ Liz decided, _And here I am alone. Again..._

Liz adjusted her glasses and clicked to another old video news clip on her laptop. This one had caught her eye because it showed what appeared to be a maskless Captain America fighting off some aliens alongside who people now knew as Thor, the god of Asgard. She watched for a few minutes intently as she tried to get a good look at the mysterious star-spangled imposter, but he never turned to face the camera. Liz was unwilling to believe that the Captain America on her computer screen was the same one she had grown up hearing stories about from her father and Pops. _Who the hell is this dude?_ She wondered, _He's the only one who hasn't been accounted for by the government in the news._

Liz sighed as she sat back in her dining chair. She removed her glasses and set them on the table, then pressed her palms onto her closed eyes to relieve the strain she felt on them. Liz had been at this for hours after closing up the shop tonight. It was now passed midnight, and she was starting to lose focus on the project that had taken over her dining area. Her smartphone began to sound, notifying Liz that the laundry she had brought down to the basement earlier needed her attention. Liz put her glasses back on and silenced the phone timer. She paused the video clip on the computer and pocketed her phone in her hoodie as she stood up, taking a moment to stretch before heading downstairs.

When she entered the basement laundry room, Liz found that she was not the only one who had the idea for a midnight laundry run. "Hey Kate," Liz greeted her neighbor as she approached a dryer, "I see you got my invite for the basement pajama party."

"I'm a bit of night owl," Kate laughed at the joke as she continued folding clothes and placing them neatly into her wicker laundry basket. She was wearing a yoga top and pants with flat slippers and her blonde hair was drawn up into a messy ponytail. Kate looked very well put together compared to Liz's frumpy hoodie, oversized fuzzy pajama pants, and even fuzzier Chewbacca slippers.

"Same," Liz replied. She opened the dryer and started pulling out her warm, clean clothing, "I feel more productive at night sometimes, or at least that's what I tell myself to justify being up anyway." Liz felt her phone vibrate in her hoodie pocket as a text message notification sounded. She pulled it out to see who it was, furrowing her eyebrows at the screen.

"Apparently we're not the only ones," Kate nodded in the direction of Liz's phone as she folded one of her hospital scrubs.

Liz sighed, "It's Jason. Again." She had no desire to read the message. Liz dismissed the notification and set the phone on top of the dryer and continued folding.

"Oh, honey... Please tell me you're not thinking about starting things up with him again," Kate stopped folding and looked at Liz with concern.

"No, but that doesn't mean _he's_ not…" Liz trailed off in an exasperated tone as she wrestled with a pair of jeans that was holding together knotted ball of clothing.

"Good. It's been nice finally seeing you smile for a change," Kate started, "A smile, if I dare to say it, seems to be much more common when a certain handsome neighbor of ours is around."

Liz looked to Kate just in time to catch her wink and Liz began to blush, "Steve and I are just friends," Liz rushed defensively. For some reason, she always seemed to panic when anyone suspected or suggested Liz of having feelings for a guy, "It wouldn't matter much anyway. He's re-enlisted and will probably be deploying somewhere soon," Liz tried to shrug it off. She absolutely admired Steve for what he was doing — and he deserved all of her support — but Liz had already gotten a taste of what it would be like when he left, and thinking of him possibly being in any kind of danger made her feel sick in the pit of her stomach.

"Liz, you are a terrible liar," Kate laughed, "Your face completely gives it away that you have feelings for him. And I've heard him leaving your apartment late at night after— whatever it was the two of you were doing." Kate's tone strongly suggested that activities far from innocent had been taking place during the late night hours inside Liz's apartment.

"We were watching movies!" Liz insisted with a shocked expression, "And that hasn't happened in a while…" Liz's phone started to ring and vibrate on the top of the dryer. She looked at the screen to see the caller ID read "Steve" over a picture that Liz had taken of him with one of the Schaeffer twins hanging on each arm as he lifted them into the air like dumbbells. They had all been laughing.

"Speak of the devil," Kate said smugly.

Liz answered the phone after a few rings, "Steve?" She asked timidly. Receiving a phone call at close to one o'clock in the morning from anyone was curious. But a phone call from Steve at this time of night could be cause for worry. He had never called her this late before.

"Thank God," Steve muttered under his breath. Liz guessed he had not meant for that to slip out. "Liz? I'm sorry about calling this late. I just got in— Your door was open and all the lights are on and you weren't here and… I got worried," Steve rushed through the explanation, "Are you okay?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I'm in the basement with Kate finishing up some laundry," Liz tried to hold back a small smile that was fighting its way onto her lips, "What did you think? I got carried off by ninjas or something?" She could not pass up the opportunity to have a little fun at his expense.

"Well excuse for me for caring," Liz could hear the sarcastic smile in Steve's voice. There was a brief pause before he continued, "Who is Captain America?" He asked softly.

"Way to be random," Liz chided jokingly, "Are you— Are you drunk or something?" It would explain this conversation perfectly if that were the case.

"What? No! It says it on your computer…" Steve trailed off. Liz thought she detected more worry in his tone but was not sure, "Which is sitting in the middle of what I thought was the sign of a struggle at first…" Steve sounded like he was chastising himself for obviously overreacting to nothing.

"Oh, I went off on a tangent while looking for reference pictures. The title's just some clickbait to get more views on that video. It never shows his face," Liz rambled.

There was another pause before Steve spoke again, "Since you're awake," he began, "Do you— Would you like to finally get around to a movie night? I'm feeling restless from the night training and it's altered my sleep schedule…"

Liz smiled, "Sure, I'm off tomorrow so I have no problem with that."

"Alright," Steve replied, "Mind if I pick?"

"Go for it. I'll be up in a minute," Liz said and hung up the phone. Liz started hurriedly piling her laundry into her plastic basket without folding it.

"Sure," Kate said and started laughing, "He calls you in the middle of the night to see you, and you literally can't get back upstairs fast enough. Yeah, there's _nothing_ going on," her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Liz stood up from her laundry basket and sighed, "There's really nothing going on Kate," she started, "But that— It doesn't mean that I don't—" Liz was fumbling for words as she looked down at the floor, unsure of why she was saying it. She had always been terrified of admitting that she had romantic feelings for someone, even to a person who was completely outside the situation. Perhaps the late hour was overriding her inhibition just a bit.

"That you like him," Kate finished for her, softly.

Liz nodded, still avoiding eye contact. She sighed one more time before admitting it out loud, "I like him a lot…"

Kate gently touched a hand to Liz's shoulder, prompting Liz to finally look at her, "Then sweetie, you need to stop torturing yourself and do something about it. Put your best self forward and let him know how you feel." Kate lifted her wicker laundry basket, which was now full to the brim with neatly folded clothing, before looking back at Liz and continuing, "You say he might be deployed soon. There's no knowing whether or not he'll come back from that."

Kate had addressed Liz's biggest fear about the circumstances right up front, "What if I do? And then what if I lose him?" Liz had trouble finding her voice barely above a whisper.

"Then take it from someone who knows," Kate started with a sad smile, "It won't be as bad as regretting that you never tried."

"I—" Liz started. There was no use arguing it; Kate was right. Liz sighed again, looking down. Her own pajamas caught her attention. "I can't go up there dressed like this," Liz said, immediately beginning to rummage through her laundry basket. She heard Kate start laughing next to her as Liz pulled her hoodie over her head and replaced it with a black, band t-shirt (thank goodness she still had on a bra or this could have been awkward). She readjusted her glasses, then swapped her baggy, fuzzy pajama bottoms for a pair of black and grey plaid flannels that actually looked like they fit her small frame. The Chewbacca slippers would have to stay, though she did quickly throw on a clean pair of socks.

"Ready, then?" Kate asked, still chuckling lightly.

"I guess," Liz smushed the rest of her unfolded clothing into the basket and lifted it up, following Kate out of the laundry room towards the stairwell. She still was not sure what she was going to do about this Steve situation. But somehow she felt better just having talked about it with someone.

Liz said goodnight to Kate once they reached the third floor. Liz found her apartment door still open and saw Steve in the far corner of her dining area as she entered. He was standing with his hands in the pockets of his navy, zip-up hoodie gazing at the many sketches that covered Liz's table.

"Hey," Liz greeted Steve as she gently kicked the door closed behind her, still carrying her laundry basket. She immediately started heading towards her bedroom with the load.

"Hey," Steve replied with a smile.

"How was training?" Liz called from over the threshold of her bedroom door, which was directly adjacent to the living room. She set down the basket in the corner next to her dresser and kicked off the fuzzy slippers. _Sorry, Chewie,_ Liz mused to herself before rejoining Steve in what had been temporarily transformed into a chaotic workspace.

"Long," was all Steve had to say on the subject. Liz approached the dining table that he stood over. Steve glanced back at the pages that spread across it, "It looks like you've been busy, too. Building your own Stark suit?" He nodded in the direction of one of the electronic schematics Liz had drawn out for one of the Iron Man gauntlets.

"If I had an extra few million dollars lying around I might have been," Liz laughed, "But no, I'm making a toy replica for Billy. Emma's getting a Black Widow one. Birthday presents," Liz explained. Truth was that the fantasy of having one of those flight suits was at the top of Liz's "Ridiculous Things I Totally Want But Will Never Happen" list, pod racing on Tatooine or visiting Hogwarts and playing Quidditch being a very close tie for second. She had this thing about anything to do with flying.

"I'm amazed that you can do this," Steve started, "I can't make sense of any of this math…" It was evident through his tone that Steve sounded impressed, perhaps even a bit overwhelmed. Steve then reached for another page half hidden under another in the corner of the dining table behind Liz's laptop, the screen still displaying a paused video clip, "What's this one?" Steve asked as he brought the page between him and Liz so that they could both easily look at it.

Liz was briefly distracted by Steve's suddenly close proximity. The next breath that she inhaled overwhelmed her sense of smell with Steve's scent. It was a natural, masculine aroma not masked by any cologne, with a slight hint of soap that Liz found enticing. Liz blinked hard in order to get her eyes to refocus, as they had momentarily glazed over. She looked at the page Steve held in front of them both, "That's an art piece of a flight suit concept I came up with as part of a project for my Master's degree," Liz started. She began pointing out various parts of the sketch with her finger, "It's pretty much a wearable backpack. The wings you see here unfold from it and collapse back in when not in use. The back piece itself doubles as a jetpack, and the wings are used to stabilize flight and adjust direction. Kind of inspired by the greek legend of Icarus."

"I can definitely see that," said Steve, "Did you ever build it?"

Liz laughed, "Again, maybe if I had that extra couple million dollars…" Liz trailed off.

"I might be able to talk to someone…" Steve began.

Liz furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him, "What? About this sketch?"

"I have connections with some people that could help you," Steve began to explain, "This design would be valued and could be used to do a lot of good." Steve's expression had grown almost earnest.

"You, sir, are beginning to sound like Pops," Liz sidestepped the suggestion, "What exactly have you gotten yourself into?" Liz asked bewildered, beginning to worry. She new that Pops had gotten into some dangerous business in past years when he had worked for the government. This kind of talk had been common coming from Pops when Liz had still been in school, even though by then he had been retired for quite some time.

Steve looked at Liz for a moment, his blue eyes shifting back and forth between her green ones. "I—," Steve seemed to struggle for words before letting out a sigh and averting his gaze, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Steve placed the drawing down on the table gently close to where he had found it.

Liz stared at him still avoiding her gaze, "Try me," she pressed. A moment of silence passed between the two of them. Liz cautiously brought her hand up to touch his shoulder to coax him to look at her before she continued, "Steve, I— I want you to know that— It's okay for you to tell me stuff, if you want to, because—" Liz cut herself off and bit her lip, _Because I might be falling for you_ — _No, don't you dare say that!_ She argued with herself. Steve finally turned his eyes back to her with an interested expression. Liz's heart had started beating faster in a panic. She was trying to take Kate's advice and find the right words to convey her feelings, but the more Liz tried the more her courage slipped away. She could hear her blood pumping in her ears as she tried to think of a way to get herself out of the corner that she had backed herself into. After a long pause, Liz finally finished, "Because I care about you— And I care about if you're going to be okay doing whatever next level stuff they've got you training for." Liz folded her arms over her chest as if to shield the emotional opening she had just created. The words may not have sounded like much to most people, but for Liz it was a very difficult thing to admit.

Steve's eyes had such conflict in them; again he looked to struggle for something to say. Liz turned and put her attention on one of the mathematical equations in front of her on the table, calculating the necessary power output for one of the gauntlets. Instantly she felt foolish. The time between midnight and morning had a way of making her speak without thinking and say more than she had intended; things she often came to regret. Liz smoothed a strand of auburn hair behind her ear closest to Steve, then cursed mentally for allowing that nervous compulsion to surface.

"Liz, I—" Steve cut himself off briefly and put an arm around her shoulder before continuing, "I care about you too. And I promise I'm not gonna let anything happen to me."

Liz turned her face to him and met his gaze. His face was marked by exhaustion, worry, and concern. Liz did not know how anyone could make that promise and be absolutely confident in it, but one look into Steve's clear, blue eyes made it evident that he sincerely meant every word.

Liz wrapped her arm around his waist, and unintentionally pulled herself closer to him. She forced a smile as she looked away, "Sorry, one A. M. has a way of making me a little over dramatic. I'm rehearsing for my Oscar, can't you tell?"

Steve laughed and pulled away suddenly, quickly crossing the room towards the television, "I think it would look good right about here," he gestured to the top of the movie storage shelf. He dusted off the top with his hand before showcasing the barren area, "Don't you?"

Liz giggled before forcing a serious nod, "Oh, yeah. Definitely. I will be sure to call you for assistance when the Academy sends me home with my mini-man statue."

"You'd better," Steve teased as they laughed at each other's silly jokes.

"So did you pick a movie?" Liz's laugh faded into an unexpected yawn.

Steve looked at her with a half-smile, "I did. But I know it's late, so if you're tired—"

Liz waved off her yawn with her hand and smiled, "No, I'm fine. Let's do it." Liz could admit that the night may have been starting to catch up with her, but she did not want to pass up the chance to spend some time with Steve. This was the most she had seen him all week.

Liz made her way over towards him and took a place on the couch as Steve smiled and opened a DVD case that had been lying on the coffee table. Liz reached for the case after Steve discarded it as he turned to load the disc into the player.

"Roman Holiday?" Liz asked skeptically as she looked at the picture on the cover. A man and a woman, whom Liz assumed to be Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn respectively going by the credits above the movie title, were riding a moped in front of the Coliseum in Italy. "This isn't one of mine," Liz continued as she flipped the case to search the back cover for a year. She found that it was from 1953.

"Pops lent it to me last week, but I just haven't been able to get to it," Steve explained setting the flatscreen to the correct input and joining Liz on the couch, "Would you rather watch something else?"

Liz brought her legs up to sit cross legged and pulled the blanket that she kept draped on the back of the couch over her lap, "No, I'm fine with this. I actually don't think I've seen it. Roll the film!" She insisted with a smile.

Steve grinned before hitting 'PLAY' on the DVD player remote.

Once her eyes had adjusted to watching the film in black and white, it did not take Liz long to realize that _Roman Holiday_ was, in fact, a member of the romance film genre. And once she had figured that out, her mind began to buzz with questions and over-analyses. _Of course Pops would lend Steve a romance flick. That man is anything but subtle… But did Steve know? This isn't the type of movie we usually watch… If he knew what it was, did he have a reason for wanting to watch it with me? Maybe I'm just being idiotically hopeful..._

Steve had adjusted his sitting position so that he had an arm draped over the back of the couch behind Liz. She was almost afraid to move, but one of her legs had fallen asleep and she needed to shift it out to the side. She propped her head on the couch as she sank into it. In doing so, she ended up closer to Steve. Another few inches and she would have been leaning on him. Liz looked up at Steve to see that he was quite engrossed in the film, as usual. He must have felt her eyes on him though. Steve turned and gave a brief smile that looked content. Liz smiled back, finding herself stealing glances at his lips unintentionally. Liz seriously considered closing the gap that remained between her lips and his, but the fear of rejection paralyzed her.

Instead, Liz turned her attention back to the screen, adjusting her glasses and pulling her blanket up to her chin. The added warmth began to make her feel quite cozy. Liz tried to suppress another yawn, but it was not long before her eyelids began to grow heavy. Liz was vaguely aware of the princess being asked to go dancing by a hopeful barber as her consciousness faded into sleep.

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **Exciting news! This is now a featured story in Wattpad's Fanfiction category (hand picked by their staff!)**

 **I want to thank you all for your follows, votes, and encouragement! It is absolutely mind blowing to me to see how well this story has been received by so many people, and I could not be more appreciative.**

 **As always, I want to thank** **OfficialAidenRose** **over on Wattpad for being an amazing beta reader for this story. You have them to thank for making sure that I stay on track and that each chapter is the best it can be before being posted.**

 **I enjoy reading all of your reviews, so please don't be shy when it comes to voicing your questions and opinions! Here's a conversation starter for you quiet folks: what do you think is running through Steve's mind throughout this Chapter?**


	10. Chapter 10: Liz VII

Chapter 10: Liz VII

Liz stirred somewhere in the realm between consciousness and dreaming, vaguely aware of a slight chill grazing an exposed ankle. In her haze, Liz could not find it in her to care enough to try and cover it; too lethargic to move. She was wrapped in a blanket anyway and was nestled into something warm. She resolved to ignore the light that was piercing her closed eyelids, determined to sleep in for once on the one day a week she took off for herself. Liz turned her face to a position that was less intrusive to her slumber. She began to doze off again to the faint scent of soap; the low thump of a slow and steady drum lulling her back to sleep.

What could have been hours or only moments later, Liz felt herself being pulled back to the waking world when she felt her pillow shift beneath her. She heard the slow drum begin to quicken as the warm, firm pillow rose and fell like it had started to breath heavily. _What the—_ , Liz wondered as she opened her eyes and bolted upright. Something heavy fell off her as she did this, her own heart about to beat out of her chest as a panic set in. It felt like an arm, though Liz could not be sure. Her glasses had fallen off as well sometime during her sleep and the world was currently a bright blur.

She felt the figure next to her move off the couch suddenly, "Liz! I'm sorry— I—"

"Steve?" Liz interrupted, looking toward him blindly; a dark blur silhouetted against the sun streaming in from the windows. She knew his voice, but could not make out his features without her glasses. She began to relax.

"Yes? Oh," Steve's voice sounded confused for a moment. Then Liz heard him rummaging briefly before she felt him take one of her hands, gently placing the frames in it. She felt him pull away.

Liz quickly put on her glasses and looked at him. Steve stood a few steps away from her with his hands on his hips, looking at nothing in particular on the coffee table between them. "Good morning," Liz greeted with a sleepy smile.

Steve looked at her, "Good morning," a half-smile played on his lips. There was a noticeable pink hue on his face. Steve's blonde hair was in disarray and his eyes were a darker shade of blue than normal.

 _How can he look so perfect after literally just waking up. It's not fair…_ Liz thought to herself quickly, trying to tame her own bed head that she knew would be taking on a life of its own.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep…" Steve apologized again after a moment of silence, starting to pace nervously.

"It's okay. I fell asleep, too," Liz offered with a smile. When Steve did not look at her, Liz began to grow anxious. "You okay?" She asked, "You look like you've never spent the night with anyone before," Liz nervously blurted in an attempt to defuse tension. _We're friends, right? We can joke about that stuff, right?_ Liz hoped. Steve stopped in his tracks and looked at Liz with a mortified look, his face growing from a slight pink to a deepening fuschia quite quickly. _Wrong…_ Liz proceeded to colorfully curse herself internally.

"I, um _—"_ Steve began to stutter, but stopped to clear his throat as he stumbled for a response.

"I was just joking!" Liz interrupted, her voice jumpy, "Are you hungry? Do want breakfast?" Liz asked as she jumped up from the couch and scampered to the kitchen in a rapid attempt to change the subject. This was one of those life lessons she had learned from her beloved Gran. Always offer a guest food to make them feel comfortable. _That, and the way to a man's heart is through his stomach…_ Liz mused, though in this particular case it also served as means to escape the awkwardness that had just manifested in her living room. Steve followed and stood on the threshold of the kitchen. Liz used the refrigerator door as a shield between them while she reviewed her breakfast options, "I'm out of eggs…"

"Thank you," Steve said softly, "But I need to head down to base."

Liz looked over the fridge door to see Steve furrowing his eyebrows at the screen of his smartphone. She could not help but find it adorable that he could be so perplexed by it. He put the phone in the pocket of the workout pants he had been wearing since last night and looked up to Liz with a half-smile, "I'll see you later?"

Liz closed the door of the fridge, and followed him the few steps to the front door of her apartment as Steve opened it, "Yeah, I'll be around," she smiled.

A door opened and closed on the other side of the hallway. Steve and Liz looked to see Kate appear in the corridor, dressed in hospital scrubs. Liz watched her stop short when Kate saw the two of them in the entrance to Liz's apartment, "Good morning," she greeted, a smirk growing on her lips, "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Now it was Liz's turn to look mortified. She forced a response, her voice a bit higher pitched than usual, giving Kate a pointed look, "Not at all."

Steve crossed the hall to his door while looking a bit tense, "Have a good day, Kate," he said cordially before entering his apartment and closing the door.

Kate came over to Liz still standing in the doorway, "Do I even need to ask?" She whispered with a smirk.

"Nothing happened! We fell asleep watching a movie," Liz whispered hurriedly.

"So you didn't tell _—_ or _do_ _—_ anything to him?" Kate pressed.

Liz shook her head, "No. But I don't think he feels the same, anyway..."

Kate sighed, "Only one way to find out, Liz," Kate smiled encouragingly, "I'm late, but just think about it," she finished and headed down the stairs.

Liz sighed to herself as she closed her door. It was too early to "think about it". She decided to go back to bed for a while, though she found that she had trouble getting back to being as comfortable as she had been earlier that morning…

A few days had passed since the morning Liz and Steve had woken up together, and Liz had hardly stopped thinking about it since. She could not remember ever feeling quite so safe and comfortable as she had been that morning. Liz was seriously considering taking Kate's advice and finally telling Steve that she might want to be something more than just friends.

But Liz could not rationalize putting herself in a vulnerable position for someone who was not going to be there. Steve had been busy, as was the new norm, and had not been around much. The twins seemed to notice, and began to question Liz about his absence one afternoon.

"Lizzie, how come Steve doesn't hang out with us anymore?" Billy asked while Liz handed him a small box filled with vintage toys. He and his sister, Emma, were helping Liz empty Pops' commercial van in the small parking lot behind Dolan & Sons Antiques by bringing some newly acquired items into the back of the store.

"Yeah, we wanted to show him our new forms from Tae Kwon Do!" Emma added. Liz had been able to convince the twins' mother, Catherine, that at the very least martial arts lessons would be a good summer activity to help keep them busy in addition to helping with the issue of Billy being bullied at school.

"He's been busy working," Liz explained as she handed Emma a large paper shopping bag containing lace table cloths, "I'm sure he misses you guys, too," she added with a smile.

"Did you guys break up?" Emma asked timidly.

Liz froze for a moment. _What on earth gave her the idea we were even together?_ She thought in disbelief, "No, we didn't break up. We're just friends, like we've always been. Steve just has other responsibilities now."

The twins looked at each other, communicating something between themselves silently. Liz turned back to the van. As she was closing the double doors of the now empty cargo bed, she heard a familiar voice call out; much to her dismay.

"How'd I know you'd be back here?"

Liz turned to see Jason approaching with a cocky grin. _I guess hoping he finally got the hint was too good to be true,_ Liz thought to herself as her mood fell. Somehow she was not surprised to see him. Liz had gone a few days without responding to any of his attempts at communication and it looked like now she was going to pay for it.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Billy interjected before Liz could respond to Jason. Liz looked to the twins, identical scowls covering their faces.

"Hey! Is that any way to greet your former neighbor? I thought we were pals," Jason replied with mock hurt in his voice.

"No we're not," Emma stated with detest.

Liz stooped down to the twins' height as she faced them, "Why don't you guys bring that stuff to Pops. I'll be in soon," Liz said kindly so that they would be less likely to protest. The twins glanced at eachother with uncertainty before silently agreeing to go inside. Once the back door had closed behind them, Liz turned to Jason and sighed, "What do you want, Jason?" Liz was more tired of this situation than anything. Most of her anger toward Jason had faded over recent months, but his persistence for trying to stay a part of her life had grown tedious and wearisome.

"Obviously to see you," Jason started with a smug tone. Liz was not amused, and Jason appeared to pick up on that as she scowled. His demeanor quickly softened as he continued, "I wanted to see if you'd go for a coffee with me."

Liz knew Jason well, after all they had dated for almost a year, and she could tell by the look in his chocolate eyes that he was being sincere. She sighed and began walking to the driver's door of the van, "If I had any interest in spending time with you, I would have responded to one of your dozens of text messages and voicemails," Liz stated with exasperation. He was really trying her patience.

"Come on, Lizzie," Jason pleaded behind her, "I messed up. I made _one_ mistake and I'm trying to make up for it. I don't understand why you won't give me the chance."

Liz opened the door to the van roughly, "Jason, _you_ chose this. _You_ chose to end it and move out, and after months of silence then tell me it was because _you_ chose to completely violate my privacy." Liz's temper was beginning to flare. It was not the first time she was telling him this. Liz climbed up a step at the base of the door so that she could reach her messenger bag that she had left between the driver and passenger seat. The dog tags hanging around her neck clinked over an armrest.

"Liz, please," Jason said softly from behind her, his tone unfamiliar.

Liz was expecting more to follow but there was silence. After pulling her bag out of the crevice between the seats, Liz turned to look down at Jason. One hand clinged to the steering wheel for balance as she stood on the step of the van. She could not recall ever seeing him like this before.

Jason's eyes looked desperate, pleading, "Can we _please_ talk about this?"

Under her anger, Liz was fighting an unexplainable hint of guilt that was beginning to grow in her chest. She took a moment to really look at Jason for the first time this afternoon, albeit with narrowed eyes. His face looked tired without his signature cocky grin, his black hair had not been styled into its typical short fauxhawk, and she could make out the hint of dark circles under his dark eyes.

Liz made the mistake of looking into Jason's eyes long enough to see a suffering deep within them; and Liz found that she felt a small amount of pity for him. Almost against her will, Liz's good nature took control; a characteristic that was cause for much self-loathing, as others often found and easily exploited it. After a long moment Liz reluctantly agreed. She would at least let Jason get whatever he wanted to say off his chest. Quite honestly there was a part of her that was interested to hear it.

"Five minutes," Liz ruled, "If I give you that, will you promise to stop blowing up my phone?"

"I— You'll never hear from me again." Jason was very serious when he said this, though Liz found it way too good of a promise to be true.

Liz stepped down from the van and slammed the door. She turned back to Jason and crossed her arms, "Good. Speak your piece."

"I— I know that you're angry. I know you feel like I betrayed your trust, and I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise," Jason paused for a moment as if expecting Liz to interrupt him. When she remained silent he continued, "I should have talked to you. But I was afraid…" Jason looked away from her as he trailed off.

"Afraid of what?" Liz pressed, her expression had softened. She had never seen this vulnerable side of him before. Jason had always been confident and charming, which Liz theorized as the main reason she had been attracted to him in the first place. Liz considered herself to be neither of those things.

"Afraid of how I felt— how I _feel_ about you," Jason corrected himself as he moved closer to Liz, "I was so sure that you were leaving. Because who in their right mind would pass up that kind of an opportunity?"

Liz shifted her weight from one foot to another uncomfortably, "Are you calling me crazy?" Her hands moved to clench the strap of her messenger bag tightly. _Maybe I am… Stark Industries was the chance of a lifetime. I'm never going to be that lucky again._

"No, Lizzie. _I_ was the crazy one," Jason explained, regaining her attention, "I was an idiot for thinking that if I somehow took control of the situation, that somehow it would be easier to forget about you."

"There was no 'situation'," Liz shook her head in exasperation, "I wasn't going anywhere. You brought all of this down on yourself."

"I know that now," Jason's eyes bored into Liz's as he stepped toward her slowly, "And I regret it every day. I never stopped loving you, Liz."

Liz was taken aback by this. _He only ever said that when we_ — Liz tried to put the thought out of her mind, but images of them together came flooding back to her that she thought she had buried long ago. Liz's heart rate began to quicken noticeably as her nervousness grew. Her eyes shifted back and forth between Jason's as she searched for a response.

Jason continued before she could say anything, "And I'm _sorry_."

"Jason, I—" Liz started.

"You can't tell me that I meant nothing to you," Jason interrupted, and he was right. Jason knew. He knew because she had opened up to him about everything. He knew he had been her first love; her first long-term relationship; her first significant other with whom she had decided to be intimate, in every sense of the word...

"Please, Lizzie," Jason brought her out of her reverie, "I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss those freckles, looking into those beautiful eyes," Jason was uncomfortably close to Liz now and she felt paralyzed, as if she had been stunned.

Liz looked into his eyes and could plainly see love there. All of the good memories she had worked so hard to forget were returning, somehow not quite as tainted as they had seemed before. Liz was finding it hard to recall Jason ever doing her wrong before his one major screw up at the end. _Have I just been so blinded by my own stubbornness this whole time?_

Jason moved even closer and lifted a hand to brush his fingers lightly against her cheek, "I miss the softness of your skin in my bed…"

The moment he touched Liz, the rage that had been laying dormant for so long erupted within her. Liz had trusted Jason, and she did not give her trust to people easily. She had trusted him and loved him enough to give herself to him completely, and the fact that Jason had turned his back on that so easily was unforgivable.

"No!" Liz shouted as she smacked his hand away, "You don't get to touch me!" _He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing when he left. He knew how much damage he would inflict, and he did it on purpose!_

"Lizzie, calm down," Jason said, gently putting his hands on her shoulders in an effort to sooth her.

Liz's blood began to boil as she took a step back. Before she knew it, her hand had grown into a fist, "I said hands off!" Liz flexed her entire arm as her fist connected with Jason's clefted jaw. The force of the punch had been enough to make him turn his head, but Jason's feet stayed firmly planted on the ground.

"What the _hell,_ Liz?" Jason yelled at her in disbelief, rubbing his chin.

A half-second later, Liz saw Jason being pulled away from her. He was slammed into the side of the van, causing it to sway on its wheels. Liz was shocked to see that it was Steve who had Jason pinned there. Jason was of a comparable height to Steve, but Steve had Jason held up by the t-shirt. Jason's heels were off the ground.

"Why is it that whenever she's upset, it has something to do with you?" Steve's eyes pierced Jason, his voice barely above a growl. Liz could see Steve's back muscles flexing under his fitted blue workout shirt.

"Listen, man. I'm not looking for trouble—" Jason strained against his compressed lungs. The van groaned on its suspension as Steve pressed Jason harder against it.

Things were quickly getting out of hand. Liz had never seen this side of Steve before. The intensity of his expression brought Liz back to her senses, "Steve, put him down," she said breathlessly as she raised her small hand to his forearm.

Steve did as he was told, although he seemed reluctant to do so. He took a step back from Jason and turned to Liz, "Are you alright?" Steve's eyes studied her with worry, looking for anything that might be wrong.

A throbbing pain was growing in her knuckles. Liz examined her fingers as she opened and closed them several times, "I'm fine. I just… lost my temper…" Liz replied.

Steve saw this and commented, "You're hurt," he did not hesitate to take her hand and gently begin to test her dexterity. It amazed Liz how Steve could go from such brute strength to tenderly caressing her joints in a matter of seconds.

"It was self-inflicted," Liz explained. Though she was sure that her hand would be sore for the next few days, Liz had to admit that it felt worth it. Not only did she inflict some damage against Jason, but now Steve was holding her hand. _His hands feel more callused now than they used to be..._

"Was that really necessary?" Jason asked Liz, a harsh tone leaking through.

Liz looked at Jason. Part of his jaw was beginning to turn pink. Steve released Liz's hand slowly and glared at him.

"Hot-button issue," Liz stated without remorse, eyes narrowing. _He knows full well that he was my first… And that it was a big deal to me..._

"I didn't mean to upset you," Jason started as he straightened out his black t-shirt. As he looked at Liz, his eyes seemed defeated, "But I think I understand now why it's seemed so easy for you to forget about me," Jason's gaze landed on Steve briefly as he said this, as if to call out Steve as being the primary factor. Jason then quickly averted his eyes to the ground, "I think my five minutes are up," he continued and took a few steps away. Jason looked at Liz one more time, "I'm sorry, Liz— for everything." With those last words he walked quietly out of the parking lot, not waiting for a reply.

Liz watched Jason until he turned around the corner of the building and was out of sight. She noticed Steve watching her curiously, "Well, that's the end of that. _Finally_ ," Liz stated relieved. For the first time since she had run into Jason on the train a few months ago, she felt that she was finally rid of him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Steve asked worriedly, eyeing her hand.

Liz looked at him and smiled, "Yeah, I'm okay. I might have trouble holding a pencil for the rest of the day, but I'll survive," she brushed off, "I thought you were supposed to be training or something the rest of the day. How'd you know I was back here?"

"Let's just say two little birds told me," Steve smirked.

Liz rolled her eyes and smiled, "Were these little birds named Billy and Emma, by chance?"

"Yes, actually," Steve confirmed, "And they seem to have some very strong opinions about... your visitor. I had to remind Billy to watch his language."

Liz shook her head, trying not to laugh, "I have no idea where he keeps picking that stuff up. But the twins never did like Jason much. In hindsight, I should've trusted their character judgment…"

Steve shrugged, "We all have things we regret," he walked a few steps away and bent to pick up something from the ground. It was his navy blue jacket. Liz watched as Steve swatted off any dirt it may have collected.

 _He must have dropped it in his rush to get between me and Jason,_ Liz theorized, but nevertheless it made her curious, "What are you doing with a jacket in the heat of the day during June? Even I'm hot for once," Liz asked. She was, infact, without a hoodie — a very rare thing — and comfortable to be in only a light blue tank top as the sun warmed her.

"I've been riding my motorcycle to and from base," Steve explained, "Cuts down on the wind chill, and adds a little protection against road debris…"

Liz felt her eyes light up and smiled at the mention of his bike, "You've been holding out on me! I still have yet to see this thing."

Steve was smiling, "It's out front. Would you… would you like to go for a ride?" He asked tentatively. He seemed to second guess himself before posing the question.

"Do you even have to ask?" Liz was already moving past him, heading around toward the front of the store. Liz looked over her shoulder quickly and saw Steve following behind her with a grin on his face. She was suddenly very excited. She had not been on a motorcycle since she was a kid…

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **I am so sorry for the slow updates! Thank you for being patient. Life and work have been keeping me quite busy to the point where I have had hardly any free time. I post periodic status updates to my profile, so if you want to stay in the loop to have a better idea about when updates will be posted, please fell free to follow me! My mind is still blown at the overwhelming response this story has received since being featured. Thank you all for your encouragement :-)**

 **As always, thank you to OfficialAidenRose over on Wattpad for being my extra pair of eyes!**

 **I know that there have been some strong feelings about Jason from you guys prior to this chapter. What do you all think about him after reading this one? I'd love to know!**

 **I hope this chapter lives up to all of your expectations. Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11: Liz VIII

Chapter 11: Liz VIII

Liz let herself into Pops' apartment on the ground floor after closing up the shop for the evening. She hung her messenger bag on a hook by the door, "Hungry, Pops?" Liz called from the entry area. Liz had planned on cooking dinner for the two of them. Her own stomach was grumbling.

When Pops did not answer right away, Liz walked into the living area where she saw him sitting in his arm chair on the phone, muttering angrily into the handset for the landline. Liz noticed the television was muted on what looked to be a courtroom drama. Pops hung the phone up rather brashly when he saw Liz.

"Sorry, Sunshine," Pops said.

Liz furrowed her eyebrows, "Everything okay, Pops?"

"Yes, yes. I was just trying to get through to Veterans' Affairs. It seems to be a busy time for them," Pops un-muted the television, stood up from his chair, and joined Liz on the way to kitchen, "I took the liberty of ordering Chinese," he said, pointing out a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. There was a red pagoda printed on it.

"Pops, I was going to make you something," Liz complained over another grumble from her stomach.

"I had a craving," Pops explained, handing her a plate, "Besides, it sounds to me like your tummy isn't going to protest."

Liz laughed as she emptied the paper bag of food containers and began filling her dish, "It does smell good."

They made their way to the dining table adjacent to the living area to sit down. Liz tuned into the show playing on the television across the room, some lawyer show where everyone looked to be far too serious. She quickly lost interest as she dove into her chicken lo mein ravenously.

"So, you never told me how your date with Steve went," Pops began out of the blue.

Liz almost choked on her noodles, "What are you talking about?" She looked at him incredulously, "We haven't gone on a date."

"The other day?" Pops seemed like he was trying to remind her, "He took you out on that motorcycle of his."

She remembered the afternoon vividly. Liz and Steve had taken a ride together just after she had given Jason a good whack in the face, and after Steve had almost put him through the side of the van. It was the closest she had been to Steve since the morning they had accidentally woken up together. Liz had sat behind him on the bike with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Steve rode them through town for the better part of an hour, his back keeping her warm and acting as a shield against the wind of the open road, and she had loved every minute of it. She had not felt that much of a rush in longer than she could remember. Despite the fact Steve had no helmets to supply for either of them, Liz had felt completely safe and comfortable with him.

"That wasn't a date," Liz defended. _Or was it?_ Liz asked herself. It had not been officially labeled as a "date", but now Liz could not help but wonder if maybe it had meant something.

"Pity," Pops answered between forkfuls of brown rice, "Steve's a good lad. He'd be lucky to have you as his lady."

Liz sighed, "I don't need to be anyone's _lady_. And I—"

Pops cut her off, "I know, I know. You have too much to do around here and all that nonsense. You can keep telling yourself that all you want, Sunshine. Doesn't change the fact that you two are smitten with each other."

Liz could not help but laugh, albeit rather nervously, "'Smitten?' Seriously, Pops, who still says ' _smitten_ '?"

"I will take that blatant attempt at changing the subject as confirmation that I'm correct," Pops winked at Liz.

Suddenly, loud music started blaring from the television across the room. Liz turned to see what looked to be some news report being introduced.

" _Good evening, America. I'm Nick Bryson for WHiH World News. We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming with this breaking story: President Ellis was taken hostage moments ago by unknown parties_ _at The Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington D.C. during the Center's annual Gala. We have reports of S.H.I.E.L.D. mobilizing in the area. Our own correspondents are en route…"_

Liz was caught off guard by this, and felt slightly alarmed. _That's not too far from here…_ Liz thought. She looked at Pops for a moment; his concentrated gaze never left the television.

" _I'm receiving word that Lorena Rodriguez is now on the scene,"_ Nick Bryson informed his viewers, _"Lorena, what can you tell us?"_

The camera switched to live footage of the news correspondent walking the front lines of a police perimeter around the building, speaking into the microphone and sounding winded, _"Local police and S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives are cordoning the entire area as we speak, Nick,"_ the newscaster was walking briskly with the camera hurrying behind her, _"There are still some civilians running out of the building… I can hear what sounds like helicopters heading in this direction. Most likely S.H.I.E.L.D. enforcements flying in from the Triskelion just across the river… Wait, yes! Yes, I can confirm that two S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopters are coming in for a landing…"_

The camera panned and zoomed in on the helicopters making their descent. The chopper sound filled the room as the news correspondent waited for the noise to subside before continuing her report. Several operatives in full, heavy tactical gear began jumping out of the hovering helicopters before they each lifted away from the scene and into the rapidly setting sun.

Liz thought she caught the glimpse of a familiar disc-shaped shield in the midst of the operatives forming up on the pavement, "Pops, did you see th—"

" _Nick, I don't believe my eyes!"_ Lorena exclaimed suddenly, _"Captain America himself has his boots on the ground here at the Kennedy Center. I repeat: Captain America appears to be taking charge of the team that just landed."_

Liz flew out of her dining chair and onto the sofa in front of the television so that she could get a better look at the man on the screen; the alleged "Captain America". She was still convinced that this was some new hopeful attempting to fill the hero's shoes as opposed to the man she had grown up hearing inspiring stories about from Pops and her father. Liz absentmindedly clutched the dog tags hanging around her neck as she continued to watch.

" _The last time Captain America appeared was during the Battle of New York last year,"_ Lorena the newswoman explained. This man had suddenly become the entire focus of the story, _"We still do not know the identity of the man behind the mask. But it is now clear that he is working closely with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."_

Liz tuned out the news correspondent who was now doing nothing more than stating the obvious. The camera zoomed in as best it could to focus solely on the captain turning back and forth as he seemed to give orders to his team. He wore a helmet that covered the top half of his face, a rugged chin strap obscuring most of the lower half. If not for the ostentatious red, silver, and blue shield with a star on it, he would have easily blended in with the other operatives gathered around him. Liz noticed that this uniform looked much different than the one she had seen in the footage from the Battle of New York. This one was more subdued, stealthy even, in mostly navy blue and black tones. The familiar silver star remained on his chest, matching stripes emanating out from it and across his broad shoulders.

On the captain's command, half of his team began their approach to the building. For a moment, he paused and turned directly to look at the camera that was on him.

"I need to make a phone call," Pops said suddenly from behind Liz. She turned to him briefly, confused by the stern tone in his voice. Liz did not question him as he disappeared quickly into the adjacent bedroom and closed the door.

Liz turned her attention back to the screen. Another operative armed with a bow in his hand and a quiver on his back had appeared in the frame with the captain. _That one looks familiar… I think he was at the Battle of New York, too… They called him Hawkeye,_ Liz recalled. After a brief exchange, the two of them along with their remaining team members started toward the building. The camera zoomed out to catch the group rounding the far corner and disappearing from view.

Liz watched for a few minutes as nothing particularly interesting happened. She decided to return to her dinner to pass the time. She lowered the television volume to a less obnoxious level as the news anchors began going back and forth with their speculations on the identity of Captain America.

Liz did not take long to devour her lo mein, even with the occasional glance at the television to see if there had been any developments in the story. Once her plate was cleared, Liz made her way back to the kitchen in search of an egg roll and some soy sauce. As she was heading back to the table, she could not help but overhear Pops in the other room. She could not make out all the words, but Liz was able to determine that Pops seemed to be rather upset with someone named "Nicholas" on the other end of the call.

Pops returned from the other room looking disgruntled as Liz returned to her chair at the table. She watched as Pops took his seat in a bit of a huff and returned to his dinner without a word, looking at the television intently. He was acting strangely, which made Liz begin to worry.

"Everything okay, Pops?" Liz asked for the second time that evening, her egg roll laying forgotten on the plate in front of her.

Pops brought his attention back to Liz with a delayed smile, "Fine, fine," he waved off, "So where were we? Oh, yes. Your 'not-a-date' date with Steve."

Liz rolled her eyes as she put her attention back on her egg roll, "Not much to tell. There was some traffic, but the weather was nice." _Maybe if I don't look interested he'll stop bringing it up_ , Liz hoped silently.

"Did the two of you watch the movie he borrowed?" Pops asked nonchalantly.

Liz thought for a moment. That night seemed like such a long time ago already, although it was only last week, " _Roman Holiday_?" She asked, clarifying.

"Mhmm," Pops confirmed through a mouthful of food.

"We—" Liz started, " _I_ fell asleep," she corrected mid-sentence. She did not want to have to explain Steve inadvertently spending the night in her apartment to her grandfather. She was uncomfortable enough as it was with this line of questioning. Liz spent the remainder of their meal trying to skirt around Pops' inquiries on the topic.

When they were finished eating, Liz began to gather their dirty plates and silverware.

"Thank you, Sunshine," Pops said warmly as he handed her his empty dish.

Liz returned a smile. She watched Pops' gaze suddenly shift back to the television.

"Something's happening," Pops informed her. He got up and went over to the couch to watch. Liz set the plates back down on the table and joined him as Pops raised the volume of the news report.

" _What's that, Lorena, you're breaking up,"_ news anchor Nick Bryson said as he listened into an earpiece, holding two fingers against it in an effort to enhance the sound. The camera cut away from the newsroom and back to the correspondent on the scene at the Kennedy Center.

" _An explosion was heard just moments ago, Nick, and we've been pushed back by authorities from the perimeter,_ " Lorena informed, " _But we still have a clear view of the front of the building where operatives appear to be exiting via the north-eastern doors. There is a small amount of smoke now rising from the north face of the building,_ " The camera zoomed into the concrete pavilion in front of the Kennedy Center. Liz could make out a few men in tactical gear taking a position on the neatly gardened medians in the cover of the small trees that grew there. Spotlights were being targeted on the doors from among one of the troops to aid in visibility during the darkening twilight. The doors flew open as a tight group of soldiers spilled out of them. In the center, the spotlight highlighted the red and silver stripes of a shield held aloft, reminding Liz of a maneuver she had seen the Roman Army use in some of Pops' old films. Liz noticed that the shield now showed signs of wear, smudged with black ash.

" _It appears that Captain America and his team are delivering President Ellis to safety!_ " Lorena Rodriguez informed. The camera showed the president being whisked off to a helicopter that was standing by on the ground. The camera panned back to the captain, who had lowered the shield to his side as he handed off the president. The rugged helmet that once protected him was missing. For the first time, the camera caught a clear view of Captain America's face as he turned back to guide other civilians as they exited the building.

Liz gasped loudly as her hands came up to cover her mouth. Her eyes were wide, "Oh my God…"

"Damn it, Steve!" Pops shouted simultaneously at the television, standing up abruptly.

The media went into a frenzy as they tightened the frame on Steve's face. Liz sat there stunned for a moment, staring at his familiar features. One side of his face was smeared with something dark. It took her a long moment to register Pops' reaction. Liz tore her eyes away from the screen to look at her grandfather. He looked angry where she would have expected to see disbelief. Then, it clicked.

"Steve?" Liz questioned with a pointed gaze, her voice barely audible.

Pops sighed and sat back down on the couch. He did not answer, instead closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Liz felt her temper start to rise, " _Steve?!_ " She asked. It was the only word she could formulate at the moment.

Pops opened his eyes and turned to her with a worried expression, "Lizzie, there's no need to be alarmed…"

"Oh! Is that so? 'No need to be alarmed'— I'm well passed ' _alarmed_ '!" Liz exclaimed, "What the _hell_ is going on, Pops? Did you know about this?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Pops stated calmly, "Fur— _the director_ personally promised to keep him out of the cameras. He wasn't ready—"

"What does _that_ mean?" Liz interrogated. When Pops remained silent, Liz continued, "You knew! And you hid it from me," she accused, "What else are you hiding?" Liz was standing now, pacing back and forth with her hands on her hips as adrenaline spiked through her, "Are you back with S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Liz had been taught early on that Pops' position in that particular government agency was meant to be kept as a secret that only his closest family should know. It was something that had been rarely talked about in their house, but Liz believed she was well within her right to bring it up given the current situation.

"Liz, I'm not going to lie to you, but—"

"But you can't tell me the truth. That's unacceptable!" Liz waved her hands in the air in exasperation and paced toward the dinner table where she began anxiously gathering the previously forgotten dishes.

"Liz, Sunshine…" Pops had followed her, "You know that this has always been a place where men and women of service, and their families, could come and get their feet back on the ground. A place where they could feel at home as they begin their transition back to normal life. Captain Rogers is no different."

Liz dropped the dishes onto the table, trembling. She looked at Pops incredulously, "Steve _Rogers_? You mean _the_ Steve Rogers?" she asked, her voice cracking. There was no way that the Steve she knew was _the_ Captain America from World War II. _It can't be possible…_

Pops nodded slowly, "Yes, dear. The very same."

"H-How?" Liz stuttered. Captain Steve Rogers gave his life to save the world. That was a fact.

Pops shook his head, "It is not my place," he stated, implying that he would not be volunteering anymore information on the subject.

Liz's temper began to flare again, "I am so _sick_ of everyone that I care about _lying_ to me!" Liz gathered the plates that had fallen and stormed to the kitchen. She had had enough.

Pops continued to follow Liz, standing in the hall outside of the kitchen archway, "Lizzie, you have to understand that I'm obligated to protect privileged information."

Liz dropped the dishes into the sink with a loud clatter. She spun to face her grandfather with her hands on her hips, "And _you_ have to understand that we are all the family we have left," Liz motioned with her hand to point out Pops and herself for emphasis, "And family shouldn't lie to each other!" Liz crossed the threshold into the hallway and brushed passed Pops, grabbing her messenger bag off the hook by the door.

"Liz—" Pops started, but Liz did not stick around to hear him finish. She opened the door to the apartment and walked out briskly, slamming it shut behind her.

Liz took the stairs two at a time leading up to the third floor to her own apartment. She opened and slammed her own door abruptly, tossed her messenger bag onto the couch, and began pacing as a panic set in, _Oh, God… He's_ the _Steve Rogers? I've been living across the hall from Captain Freaking America?!_ Liz started to tremble as she walked nervous circles around her living room. Her eyes landed on the shelving which held dozens of movie cases. Liz thought to every time she had watched a movie with Steve how he had never seen it before, _Except that one time we watched_ The Wizard of Oz _… Jesus, it makes sense…_ Liz then started thinking back to all the times Steve had asked her questions about something technological, _He seemed worse than Pops with it at first… Oh my God, how is this even possible?_

Liz's heart was racing. She spotted her laptop sitting on her dining room table and immediately went to it and sat down. She flipped it open and began a hunt for any and all information pertaining to Captain America's efforts during World War II. She could not find much. _I wouldn't put it passed S.H.I.E.L.D. to scrub the internet of any detailed information…_ Liz tapped the table with her fingers anxiously. Her search eventually led her to the video clips of the new footage that she had just seen broadcasted downstairs. Social media users had lost their minds trying to identify the "new" Captain America. _Steve Rogers, you have broken the internet…_

Liz watched the clip of Steve unmasked on a loop. Each time she found herself growing more enraged, _He's been lying to me this whole time. Damn it, I'm such an idiot… How could I let this happen again?_ Liz stood up from her chair again and cursed mentally for allowing herself to become so enamored with someone she was realizing she knew next to nothing about. She had never really pressed Steve for any specific information about his past. Liz had been taught early by Gran and Pops not to ask their veteran tenants too many personal questions so as not to inadvertently trigger any unwanted memories.

 _He owes me an explanation,_ Liz decided, _I'm not going to tolerate being lied to like a child!_ She grabbed her laptop and exited her apartment, leaving the door slightly ajar. Liz crossed the hall and set up camp on the floor in front of Steve's door.

And then she waited, scouring the internet for any information that could benefit her position in an anticipated altercation with Steve. Liz did not have to wait long before she heard light footsteps coming up the stairs. She braced herself, ready to call Steve out on everything.

Liz was slightly disappointed to see that it was Kate who had ascended to the third floor instead.

"Liz?" Kate furrowed her eyebrows, "What are you doing?"

Liz sighed loudly, "I'm waiting for Steve. I need to talk to him."

"I take it you saw the news, then?" Kate already seemed to know the answer to her question.

"Yes," was Liz's only response. She felt her teeth clench involuntarily.

"So you're going to ambush Steve in the hallway? That will end well," Kate rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"He lied to me! Am I just supposed to pretend that's okay?" Liz defended, crossing her arms.

Kate sighed in irritation, "Maybe it wasn't lying, so much as just leaving out specific details…"

"He wasn't honest and that's basically the same thing," Liz rebuttled.

"You can only be this angry for one reason," Kate began after a pause, "You're in love with him, Liz."

"Oh. My. God," Liz brought her hands up to hold her head in exasperation, "I can't be in love with Captain America! Do you have any idea how utterly _ridiculous_ that sounds?" She was starting get really tired of everyone trying to play matchmaker.

Kate sighed as she began to unlock her apartment door, "You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better," Kate started. She offered a half smile before continuing, "I'll be here if you need me. I have ice cream if tonight ends badly."

Liz did not respond as Kate's door gently clicked shut.

Liz sat on the floor with her laptop for a long while, trying to gather as much information as she could as she waited. An hour passed, and then another. Liz was beginning to question her resolve when she realized that her leg had fallen asleep. She covered her mouth as she tried to suppress a yawn. Just as she was beginning to consider giving up for the night, Liz heard slow, heavy footsteps from the stairwell below.

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **Thank you all for bearing with me during these slow updates! It has been increasingly difficult to find good chunks of time to sit down and write with everything going on back in real life. Special thanks as always to OfficialAidenRose for keeping me on track and for being a fantastic beta reader ^_^**

 **I am still so amazed that this story has developed such a large following! Thank you all for your support :-)**

 **So what do you all think? Does Liz have a right to be so upset? Should Pops have been honest with her from the beginning? Has Steve betrayed Liz's trust by keeping his true identity a secret? I love reading through all of your comments and theories, so please don't be shy!**

 **I hope this chapter lives up to all of your expectations. Thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12: Steve IV

Chapter 12: Steve IV

Steve shut off his motorcycle and dismounted before entering the parking lot behind his apartment building. He did not want to risk waking his neighbors at this late hour (he knew that the twins' bedroom window in particular faced this way), and the engine of his Harley-Davidson could be quite loud even while idling. Steve grimaced as he walked the bike to the space that Pops had set aside for him in the garage. A pain shot up his left arm and lingered in his shoulder as he did this, the result of being knocked against a wall when an unexpected explosion erupted during that night's mission. The grimace pulled on the few stitches that had been sewn into the end of his eyebrow to close a cut; another souvenir from the eventful evening. Steve touched his fingers to the wound. Finding that there was no blood escaping onto his fingertips, he shut the garage door and locked it. Steve unhooked his shield from his back harness to carry it in his good arm as he headed around the corner to the apartment residents' entrance.

He climbed the stairs slowly, trying not to let his heavy footsteps make too much noise, but fighting his oncoming weariness proved to make that much more difficult than it needed to be. Steve lost his battle with a yawn as he ascended the last staircase on his journey to the third floor. _It's been awhile since I've felt this tired,_ Steve thought as he reflected on his very long day, _But I_ have _been awake for almost twenty hours…_ The night had seemed to catch up with him sometime during the mission debriefing back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters within the Triskelion. He had almost dozed off during Clint's report of his secondary team's actions. At the present moment, the thought of sleep could not be more welcomed.

Steve reached the third floor landing and made to turn left towards his apartment, but stopped short. Sitting there on the floor was Liz, her back against his apartment door and her computer in her lap. He furrowed his eyebrows as she looked up at him suddenly, "Liz?" Steve questioned, "What are you doing on the floor?" Steve watched as Liz's expression quickly turned into a deadly glare. She did not speak a word. _What on earth has her so looking so cross?_ Steve thought to himself, but his quickening heart rate suggested that he might already know...

Liz released the dog tags that she had been holding near her chin. They clinked lightly, falling onto her chest as she pushed one of the many buttons on her computer and spun it around so that Steve could see the screen. Steve instantly found himself reliving the key moments of tonight's events. He saw Captain America fully suited, shielded, but (most importantly) without his helmet as he guided civilians to safety from the smoking building. Steve saw his own face on the screen, sure as sunrise.

He looked away and closed his eyes as his heart pounded in his chest. She knew. She had seen everything before he had had his chance to tell her. Steve struggled to find words; he took a slow breath to compose himself. He opened his eyes and looked at Liz, her gaze piercing as she waited for him to respond.

"I can explain…" Steve said softly, trying to tread lightly; but he had lit a fuse.

"You can _explain_?" Liz said over the sound of the computer still playing the news report. She snapped the screen shut — silencing it — and stood up, holding the evidence to her chest tightly, "You can _explain_ how you have been lying to me this whole time?" Liz's voice slowly began to raise in volume.

Steve gave a quick, nervous glance at Kate's door adjacent to his, then set his shield down in the corner against the other wall. He approached Liz at his door. "I understand you're upset, but let's talk inside," Steve said gently as he opened the door with his keys.

But Liz continued, "You understand I'm upset? Do you _really_? I thought we were friends, but now I find out you're _freaking Captain America_!" Liz was shouting now.

Steve picked up his shield from the floor, "Liz, please. Not here. Come inside," he urged as he gently, but firmly, ushered her into his apartment by placing his palm on the small of her back. Steve closed the door behind him and flipped on a light switch.

Liz continued her rant, waving one arm in the air for emphasis, "And you have Pops mixed up in all this S.H.I.E.L.D. cloak-and-dagger spy shit again. Do you realize how _dangerous_ this is? He's the only family I have left, Steve!"

Steve _almost_ replied with "Language!" out of habbit of what had become an ongoing joke between the two of them when dealing with Billy's foul mouth, but thought better of it. He met Liz's gaze. She could try to act tough as nails all she wanted, but Steve knew Liz well enough by now to know that her eyes always gave her away. He looked into her green irises and saw hurt, betrayal even. _I caused this..._ The guilt that Steve had been trying to fight off since they had first met welled in the pit of his stomach, _I need to fix this_.

"I'm sorry," Steve began. Liz crossed her arms over the computer she still held and waited for him to continue, "You and Pops have gone out of your way to make me feel welcome and— a part of your family. And I have more to thank you for than you know. You deserve better." Steve watched as Liz's expression softened ever so slightly. She looked like she was about to say something, but Steve went on before she could, "I thought about telling you so many times, Liz," he said with so much sincerity that it began to ache in his chest.

"You should have," Liz mumbled stubbornly after a pause, turning her gaze away to the side. She motioned to wrap a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous tic that Steve had begun to notice after only a few days of knowing her.

"I wanted to. But how do you even bring that up without people thinking that you're crazy? Captain America was dead... When we first met, I was a mess. I wasn't sure I— There was still a lot that I was trying to—" Steve paused for a moment to collect himself before falling further into a ramble. After another deep breath, he continued, "I needed time... Everything I had done before, it felt like it had all been for nothing. The fighting didn't stop. And if the world was hell-bent on destroying itself, what was the point of picking this back up?" Steve flashed the front of the shield towards Liz, he watched her eyes dart to it and linger there, "I wanted to have a chance at living the normal life I had been fighting to protect — for other people — the life that I had already _died_ for. And when we first met, I— I didn't want to be Captain America. I just wanted to be _Steve_..."

There was quiet for a moment after Steve had finished venting. In spite of the situation, he felt relieved to finally be getting all of this off his chest. This was the first time he had really opened up about his feelings to anyone. More so than all of his sessions with Doctor Garner combined. Steve looked at Liz, hoping he could get her to understand.

Liz looked back at Steve, "What changed?" She asked softly.

There was an expression there he had not seen before. _Pity?_ Steve did not like that notion. He had had enough of that before agreeing to Doctor Erskine's experiment.

It took Steve another moment to gather his thoughts, "You and Pops reminded me that if there are people that I can help, I need to— I _want_ to help them. I'm — _better equipped_ — than the average person when it comes to handling what you saw tonight. If going into a situation like that means that others don't have to, I'd rather it be me."

Liz looked like she was searching for something to say, so Steve waited.

"That's a reasonable answer…" Liz started after a moment. Her eyes drifted to the shield again. She seemed to clutch her computer tighter to her chest like a security blanket, "I guess I can understand why you kept it to yourself. But you told Pops and—"

"I didn't tell Pops," Steve furrowed his eyebrows, feeling tension on his stitches again, "He knew before I ever came here. I didn't even know that he knew about my past until a month ago."

Liz sighed, "I guess you can take the agent out of S.H.I.E.L.D., but you can't take S.H.I.E.L.D. out of the agent… But how is this even possible? You must be at least the same age as Pops, and— Oh my God, you're bleeding!" Liz had only looked from the shield back up to Steve midway through speaking. She set her computer down on the coffee table behind her in the living room before dashing to the kitchen.

Steve touched his fingers to his stitched eyebrow and saw that there was blood on them this time.

In an instant, Liz returned with a red case, "Sit down," she ordered after dragging Steve to the couch. He set the shield down to the side and did as he was told while Liz opened up the case that read _First-Aid_ on top of the coffee table.

"Where did that come from?" Steve asked. He had never seen this item in his apartment before.

"In the cabinet under the sink. Seriously, have you ever even _used_ your kitchen?" Liz asked as she gently started to pat Steve's temple and eyebrow with a piece of gauze.

Steve reached to the kit for another piece to use to clean off his fingertips. "Just the refrigerator, and the microwave. That thing is amazing." Steve watched one of the corners of Liz's mouth turn up slightly then fall again like she was trying to hide a smile.

"I'm guessing you never had one of those before," Liz said nonchalantly as she discarded the used piece of gauze to the side.

Steve shook his head, "No, that's new technology for me."

After taking a new piece of gauze, some clear tape, and some scissors out of the first-aid kit, Liz sat down on the couch next to Steve. He watched as she cut a smaller square of the gauze from a larger piece.

Liz turned to Steve, "Hold still," she instructed, delicately placing the small patch over his stitches. She held it there with one hand as she tore off a piece of the tape with the other.

"Thank you," Steve ventured softly.

"I'm afraid to ask how exactly this happened..." She mumbled as she began to secure the gauze in place.

Steve watched her as she worked. Liz's eyes glanced into his a time or two, never lingering more than a fraction of a second. Her face still held a stern expression. _Even when she's livid with me, she goes out of her way to help me._

He closed his eyes as her fingertips brushed lightly across his skin. He felt a thumb gently glide slowly over the medical tape now fixed to his temple as her palm rested on the side of his face. Steve found the sensation comforting and felt the tension in his body begin to subside. For a moment, Steve thought to the night that Liz had fallen asleep on his shoulder while watching a movie he had borrowed from Pops. When he felt her starting to shiver, Steve had put his arm around her without thinking. He had watched her for a while, amazed at how once again being close to her soothed the emotional tension he carried with him almost every day. He had been so at ease that night that he must have nodded off before the film had finished, as he could not recall the ending the following morning.

Liz repeated the stroking gesture a few more times. Steve exhaled slowly and opened his eyes when he felt himself begin to feel drowsy again and found Liz looking at him intently. Her thumb had stopped moving and she was closer to him now, but he held her gaze.

Steve's heart began to beat faster in his chest again. _Was she about to…?_ The question trailed off in his mind as a million arguments began firing off in the same second:

 _She's angry with me, so of course not._

 _But then why is she looking at me like that?_

 _She cares about me. She's told me that._

 _But how much? Does she want me to kiss her?_

 _Do_ I _want me to kiss her?_

Steve sat there paralyzed as he tried to muster up the courage to move one way or the other. He felt something start fluttering in his stomach and work its way up to his heart as he visualized the possibility. _Maybe, I—_ , he cut off his mind as he leaned toward Liz a fraction of an inch.

In the same instant, Liz withdrew her hand and looked away. "I think that should hold for now," she stated briskly and immediately turned back to the coffee table to begin returning items to their proper place in the first-aid kit.

 _Way to go, you punk. You still know nothing about women,_ Steve berated himself as a slight sinking feeling hit his stomach. He had sensed the tension in her tone, and interpreted it as her still being unwilling to forgive him. _She needs to know she can still trust me. I need to make this right…_

"Liz," Steve started cautiously. Liz continued to pack up the case in silence. Steve leaned forward and reached for her hand, "Lizzie, look at me," he pleaded. Liz had frozen for an instant when he touched her but slowly she turned back to him, her hand still in his.

Steve paused for a moment before continuing, "Do you remember the other night when you told me that _—_ if I wanted to _—_ I could talk to you about things? Well, I— I do want to, if the offer still stands. We can talk about anything you want." He hoped that she would still be willing. Steve suddenly realized that he did not want to lose someone who had become such an integral part of his new life; a life he was not sure he would be handling nearly as well had it not been for either Liz or Pops.

Liz looked back at Steve with surprise, "Of course it still stands," as if the alternative were something ludicrous, "Steve, honestly, I'm just having a tough time wrapping my head around this. And feeling as if I've been intentionally deceived just does not sit well with me."

"I'm sorry…" Steve apologized quickly.

"I know, I just…" Liz sighed, withdrawing her hand from Steve's and averting her eyes, "I need you to help me make sense of this. Like, how are you even _here_ right now? How is this even possible? Like you said before, Captain America was supposed to have died a long time ago. I don't remember immortality being one of your… powers."

"I _was_ supposed to…" Steve admitted, his fingers suddenly feeling cool now that the warmth of Liz's hand was gone, "The story about putting that plane down in the ice is true."

Steve began to tell Liz about everything that had happened after he had been pulled out of the ice, and how he had been told that the cold had caused something called suspended animation allowing him to come out of it seemingly without aging a day, thanks to the high regeneration rate of the cells in his body. Sure, there was a good portion of it considered to be classified, but Steve knew that he could trust Liz. More importantly he wanted her to trust him again, and that meant no more secrets. Pops had always told him that it was Steve's right to tell his story anyway. He told her how he had ran from the staged hospital room, how he had not recognized the middle of Times Square, and how he came to take part in the Battle of New York.

"If you think that _I_ reacted badly," Liz began with a smirk, "Wait until Billy and Emma find out you know Iron Man and Black Widow personally and have been holding out on them. They might not be as willing to forgive you as I am."

Steve smiled, "You forgive me, then?"

"Only if you promise to always be honest with me," Liz offered her condition.

"It's a deal," Steve replied with relief.

The two of them stayed up talking into the early hours of the morning. Really, it was Steve who did most of the talking while Liz listened intently with the occasional question. He told her what it was like growing up as scrawny runt of a kid in Brooklyn. He told her about his parents and how they, like Liz's, had passed away too soon, and showed her the few pictures he had left of them sitting in frames on his desk. He told her how Bucky had been the closest thing he had had to a brother, and Steve's only family after he had lost his mother. Steve even told her how he and Bucky had tried making it through art school before the war had broken out, at which point Liz insisted on seeing some of Steve's recent doodles he had let slip were stashed in his desk drawer.

Steve told Liz about his many failed attempts to enlist and being picked for Doctor Erskine's experiment and how his entire life had changed that fateful day of the Hydra attack just after the procedure. He told her about all the places he had visited during his tours with the USO as Captain America, and how he transformed that roll with the help of Peggy and Howard when Steve found out that Bucky had been taken hostage in Italy, _Or worse_ , Steve thought to himself. He told her about the war, the Red Skull, and the Howling Commandos team who had all become as close to him as family... And then he told her how Bucky died, and how he still felt that there were so many things he could have done differently to prevent it.

"I'm sure you did everything you could, Steve," Liz assured him, though her eyes looked glassy as she blinked a few times.

Steve opened up to Liz about how after the Battle of New York, he took the time he needed to adjust in a secluded cabin in the forests of the Pacific Northwest; a S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouse. Almost a year there had not done him much good so Steve decided he needed to return to modern society, which is how he ended up in the Dolans' apartment building.

"Liz, I honestly can't thank you and Pops enough for everything," Steve reiterated, "Providing me a place to stay was more than enough, but you've helped me adjust to this century better than I thought I ever would."

"Honestly, I think you're doing pretty well at it. You know, for a senior citizen like yourself," Liz smirked again. Steve was glad that things seemed to be getting back to normal between them.

"It's not the years… It's the mileage," Steve smirked back, "Biologically, I'm only twenty-eight."

"Did you really just quote _Indiana Jones_?" Liz replied. Steve noticed her eyes glance behind him for half a second.

Steve raised his unbandaged eyebrow. "Is that a problem?" he asked. He thought it had been an appropriate reference.

"Not at all. I'm quite proud, actually," Liz assured, but her eyes drifted behind Steve again for a moment longer.

Steve replied, "Well, you did introduce it to me." He paused for a moment as he tracked Liz's eyeline to the shield lying behind him to the side, propped up against the sofa. Steve picked it up and turned back to her with a smile, "You can hold it, if you want." Steve knew that shield and the story behind it meant a lot to Liz and her family. It seemed to have inspired at least two generations to be willing to serve their country for the greater good.

Liz's eyes immediately lit up. "Really?" she asked timidly.

Steve gently handed it to her with a nod and a smile. The silver star flashed in the light as Liz took the shield and stood up, sliding her arm through the leather straps on the back. Steve had not seen her this excited since he had offered to take her for a ride on his motorcycle the other day. He remembered the feeling of her slender arms holding onto him and how they had tightened around his waist every time he made a turn. _We should do that again,_ Steve thought as he yawned, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Liz turned to Steve with the front of the shield facing toward him, "It's a lot bigger and heavier than I would have thought," she commented, bringing him out of his musings.

"I think you're just small," Steve joked. The shield covered all of Liz's tiny torso easily.

Liz sighed loudly with mock exasperation, "Story of my life… Got any of that super juice left lying around that I could borrow?"

"Fresh out, I got the last of it," Steve's laugh turned into another yawn.

"Too bad," Liz stifled a yawn as well, handing the shield back to Steve, "It's getting pretty late... I think we both need to get some sleep." Liz collected her computer from the coffee table.

Steve nodded with a smile and set the shield to the side. He stood up from the couch and followed her to the door.

Liz opened the door. Before exiting, she turned back to Steve, "I'm sorry for freaking out before…" her voice trailed off as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner," Steve replied with a half smile.

Liz nodded with a small smile, "G'night, Steve."

"Good night, Liz." Steve watched Liz cross the hall to her own apartment. Steve felt his heart sink slightly as he watched her go. As exhausted as he was, Steve felt like he could have stayed up talking to her for hours more than they already had that night. He waited for her to close and lock her door before doing the same to his.

His apartment suddenly felt much emptier. Steve sighed as he flipped off the light and crossed his apartment to his bedroom. He changed into sleepwear quickly, eager to get into bed. He nearly collapsed onto the mattress. A huge weight felt like it had been lifted from Steve Roger's conscience as he drifted off sleep.

* * *

 *** * * Author's Notes * * ***

 **I know that it has been a very long time since the last update, and for that I do apologize, but I really hope that the wait was worth it! My beta reader and I have both been very busy over the last two months, though admittedly I was also very nervous about this chapter as I consider it to be one of the more important parts of the story. I must have read it, re-read it, and edited it about a hundred times to be sure it was exactly what I had intended it to be, so I really hope that you all like it :-)**

 **Special thanks to OfficialAidenRose, who you all really should show some love because without them there would undoubtedly be an even longer wait between updates...**

 **And of course, a special thanks to everyone supporting this story! Without you all, there would be no good reason to keep it going :-)**


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